The first warm days of spring have a strange effect on people. After months of coats, scarves and sensible shoes, the sun finally comes out, the grass turns green again, and suddenly everyone wants to do something silly outdoors. Some people go for a picnic. Some people go for a bike ride. And some people walk into an empty meadow and decide it is a stage.
This meadow had everything a dancer could wish for. A wide stretch of fresh grass, a small pavilion with a red roof in the distance, a line of bare trees waiting for their leaves, and a sky so blue it looked freshly painted. Not a single audience member in sight, which is the best audience of all.
Into the scene walked a blonde woman in shiny dark red leggings, black lace-up boots and a soft peach top. She did not hurry. She strolled up the field like she owned it, then stopped in the middle and let her arms fall loosely to her sides. The music, which only she could hear, began.
The first moves were gentle. A sway of the hips, a little step to the left, a little step to the right. The leggings flashed in the sunlight like wet cherries, and the boots left neat footprints in the soft ground. Then the tempo rose, and the arms went wide, and the whole meadow seemed to join in. Even the wind started to wave along.
There is a wonderful honesty in dancing outside with no audience. Nobody is judging the steps, nobody is counting the beats. A twirl that would look odd in a club looks perfect among the grass blades, and a jump that goes a little crooked simply becomes part of the show.
Of course, the meadow has a few house rules. The ground is softer than a studio floor, the grass hides a few bumps, and anyone in boots learns very quickly that mud and rhythm are close relatives. Still, every step landed with a smile, and every spin ended with a laugh.
By the end of the performance, the dancer was a little out of breath, hair tousled, cheeks glowing. She took a small bow to the empty field, and the pavilion in the distance, if buildings could clap, would certainly have clapped.
So is a spring meadow the best dance floor in town? It has the sky for a ceiling, the grass for carpet and free admission for everyone. The only requirement is a bit of courage, a pair of good boots and the willingness to look a little silly while feeling absolutely wonderful.
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