Submitted by Vivian Weston

After going up to my special place, the place called Elysium, paradise in every form, came an evening that stood out. I had been going to Elysium now for about a year. I had "graduated" from a normal visitor to the place, and had immediately ingratiated myself to the owner, the staff and anyone else that seemed to help run the place, letting them know that I was available to help. I got a part-time job helping with membership signups. In the heat of the summers of the '70's in Los Angeles, there was more than enough people interested in the nudist lifestyle and more than enough people to keep a membership person busy all day.

One evening, on a weekend, I had come up and spent another heavenly day. I had made more friends, many of us now, sharing space by putting blankets close together and hanging out as in one big tarmac. Jim, the man who had originally introduced me to Elysium, came and went from my life, as he decided to move to eastern California in order to work for Loma Linda University. I became a member, not beholden to him or anyone else. I was my own person at Elysium now.

The sun was slowly sliding itself behind the mountains and just a bit of coolness was settling in. The bunch of us pooled our dinner supplies and ate a luxurious meal of all kinds of goodies, barbecued steak, salads, fruits, melons, wine and cheeses, right there on blankets on the grass. As darkness fell, the outside lights flickered on and we gathered our supplies up. The lights led the way so one didn't fall on our faces while walking across the grass, but neither was it bright enough to gather our stuff together with any proficiency, if we didn't do it before the sun made its complete set.

Hand in hand, arm in arm, hug in hug, or singly, we ambled up to the Jacuzzi for a night-time soak. The eucalyptus smell permeated the Jacuzzi area, and we all melted into the 103 degree water most people emitting some kind of contented "oooooh" or "ahhhhhh" or "whhhoooaaa" as the bubbles and the heat hit our bodies, some of us also reacting when the hot water hit the parts of our bodies that got a bit too much sun from the day.

Vince, the boyfriend of a dear friend of mine, joined us, and sat down at the edge of the Jacuzzi. What we didn't know at the time is that he had a surprise for us. 30 of us sat in the Jacuzzi, gazing at the stars and the moon, while the infinitesimal but definitely present breeze played with us. We all, without anyone telling us to, fell silent. Vince picked up his flute and, into that quiet, still, peaceful night, began to play. There wasn't anything familiar about his tunes, they were just lilting and light, sometimes a little eerie and sometimes fun, but more just as smooth and gentle as the breeze.

Nobody had anything to say, nobody wanted to say anything, we all sat there in the warm water, listening to the music, watching the sky and being with ourselves and each other and it was truly a time when nothing existed but this place and ourselves. Vince played for almost 45 minutes and at the end of his "concert", he slowly put his flute down and walked down the slope to the main building, not saying a word. We never talked to each other much after that, we just stayed in the water a little longer, and then climbed the steps to reality, toweled ourselves dry and wondered if we'd ever be this peaceful again.