Footsteps
As she rounds the bend in the trail, Megan feels the cool breeze coming off the lake wash over her – she imagines his touch. Looking at the familiar park bench situated just on the edge of the trail – with its picturesque view of the lakefront through the trees, she pauses and wonders why she puts herself through this emotional torture each Saturday morning.
And yet – as if her legs have a will of their own, they walk her over to the bench – she relents and sits – just like she has done each Saturday for a while. And – seeming to agree with her actions, she hears the rustling of the leaves in their dance with the breeze – as well as a pair of cardinals fluttering from branch to branch – finally settling nearby to join her.
Megan sighs and smiles at the remembered conversations with Peter. “This is a fairytale”, she told him several times. After all, it was the only way she could describe how perfectly irrational their relationship was. Could it even be described as a relationship she wondered – more than once? They never actually met.
Yet, she knew him – knew things about him that no one else did. And he knew her – knew things about her that no one else did. There was a connection deeper than physical – she knew it – she felt it – yes … this was a relationship she decided. And there were certain moments when she dared to believe it could be more – it could be real. But, it was complicated – real life always is she thought.
A slight spray from the lake carried by the breeze brought her momentarily out of her thoughts. Megan brightened and smiled – it was Peter of course. And without thinking she said – as she always did when sitting on this bench, “Good morning Peter – miss you.” And as he had told her many times, “I will hear you – always … just call my name” – she waited for his response in the breeze. The two cardinals sudden chirping made her smile broaden.
But, it was the oddly familiar voice in the distance and footsteps approaching the bend that caught her by surprise – and did she really just hear someone whisper her name?
The Leaf
Stretching and looking out his window, Peter loses himself in the sway of the branches and the chaotic movements of the leaves as they dance with the breeze. He finds himself following one leaf in particular. At first, he isn’t sure why – but something in the way it moves pulls his eyes to it. It seems to stand out from the other leaves – in a private dance with nature – free from the others.
Then he suddenly realizes … it reminds him of Megan. “Of course”, he says with a smile. With thoughts renewed, Peter returns to his desk and her story – his fingers poised over the keyboard. But instead of starting to immediately write the new ideas forming in his head, he pauses and looks pass the screen to the view outside his window – as the rhythmic dance between the leaves and the breeze continue. Where is that special leaf he wonders – he can’t find it now – it seems to have blended in with the rest.
A red cardinal flies into view and lands in one of the trees. Peter imagines it is his cardinal friend – the same one he sees almost everyday in his backyard. He watches with wonder as his friend hops forward with seeming purpose a few times on the branch as it sways erratically in the breeze. And that’s when he notices – his special leaf – on that branch.
The sight brings him a smile – a sad smile yet – and he tries to return to her story. Not quite yet though – Peter gets up again and walks around his desk to the window. And though it is hot outside today, he decides he needs to open the window – he has to hear the breeze. He smiles as he sees his friend looking towards him and as if in agreement with Peter’s actions, his friend lets out a series of chirps.
Back at his desk, Peter rereads the beginning of her story. As he left her, Megan is sitting on the park bench overlooking the lake from the edge of the trail. She calls out “Good morning Peter – miss you” – her voice carries along the breeze through his open window.
And he hears…
Artist: Christine Comyn; Author: Mike Evans
