Artist: Leonid Afremov

Anna is an artist.

As we walk along the trail, I can’t help but wonder – my mind filled with several thoughts all competing for attention.  Anna purposefully ignores me for several minutes as she walks in front of me in comfortable silence.  Well, not exactly a walk – more a dance.  With graceful movements of her arms accentuated by her delicate fingers, she seems to conduct the breeze.  She silently laughs as the leaves rustle in seeming rhythm of her movements.

I watch in wonder as Anna lowers her arms with a sudden break in the breeze – the leaves settle back in place – waiting.  She whirls around to face me – gives me a mischievous smile. As usual, she starts our conversation as if answering an unasked question.  “Yes, Dylan says he feels me in the breeze when he walks”, she says.  “He says he naturally extends his fingers expecting my hand – I love that thought”, she beams. I smile at the memory of my walks with Dylan – the way he scoops the breeze with his fingers – a movement I now have as well.

I agree with Dylan – Anna has a certain way of smiling that takes your breath away.  But for me, it’s her eyes that capture you – luminous light green – almost cat-like.  She has long flowing auburn-colored hair – it flies free in the breeze – loose. On our walk today, she wears a simple white top with a turquoise skirt and sandals. She absently plays with the hem of her skirt, waiting for me to say something.  Then just like the breeze, she rustles her skirt and laughs, ‘It’s your canvas Michael – what do you want me to paint?’

Anna is going to be fun…

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Dylan is a writer.

As we walk along the trail together, He seems to be weighing out what to tell me. I feel there’s a certain sadness about him today. His shape slowly forms out the shadows in my mind. Dylan wanders casually along the trail as if he was alone – always a step or two ahead. Yet, there is an easy familiar connection between us. He’ll suddenly turn to face me at odd moments as we walk – seemingly searching for something in my face.

He has longish unkempt light brown hair – it almost distracts me from his face. But he has penetrating eyes that demand attention – hazel, I think. He smiles easily as we begin to talk. There’s a certain aliveness about him when we walk this trail. He plays with the breeze; his fingers extend to scoop up as much as possible. It always makes me laugh when he does that – but, now I find myself doing it as well.

Dylan dresses casually – jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt. He has on a button-down blue and white striped shirt today – not tucked in. He clearly has something he wants to tell me – but, I know his style a bit …

and wait…

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Waiting

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
He feels the rhythm of her heart
Lake waves slowly kiss the bank
Leaves dance and laugh in the breeze

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
Red cardinals play tag along the bushes
Squirrels scurry down the trees
His fingers idly drum on the park bench

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
Her spot empty next to him
Yet, he knows she must be near
Finally, he hears a familiar rustling

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
Her delicate fingers trace over his
Her delicious smile upon his lips
“Waiting for me?’ she teases

“Always”, he smiles pulling her close

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Sensation

his hand slides in hers
a sensation ripples through
caresses her heart

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Below the Surface

He slides his arm around her
As they walk along the path

He smiles as he feels her hand
Slip into his back pocket

They walk in comfortable silence
Several moments pass between words

A casual breeze greets them
Rustles the leaves of the trees

They begin talking of little things
The words – light – inconsequential

He smiles with the growing awareness

The meaning below the surface of words
The interplay of their unspoken thoughts

She squeals as he pulls her closer
She knows … he just wants her near

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Mischievous Breeze

She folds her delicate hand in his
As they walk along the path together

Sunlight filters through the maple trees
In a dance with a mischievous breeze

Playfully casts light and shadow about

Shapes of hearts form on the ground
Beating in rhythm with their steps

He says nothing – yet she feels his smile
She remembers his words as they entered

“Watch for nature’s language of a smile”

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Path to Her

She strolls through the woods
No particular direction in mind

Feels the breeze tease her skin
She smiles … thinks of his touch

She knows … her path is with him

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Serious Moonlight

They walk the trail – side by side
Comfortably silent in their thoughts

Quietly, she slides her arm inside his

Her eyes smile in the moonlight
Tells him more than words

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Dream

With his waking moment, Aiden senses the fleeting remnants of his dream – of an unknown her – images teasing him. He rubs his eyes – as if this action would pull them back into focus. But, they quickly fade from his mind with quiet laughter. “Damn! – so close this time”, he thinks.

He smiles with a slightly frustrated sigh – the familiar beginning to his day. Each morning – he wakes up purposefully trying to capture the memories of his dreams. “Why do so many of his friends remember their dreams in vivid detail – and not him?” he wonders.

And yet – every now and then his dreams slide open as he wakes – small vivid fragments remain for moments. These fragments always spark creative writing thoughts. “It’s like capturing lightning in a bottle” he laughs to himself. Although he didn’t capture lightning this morning, there is definitely a flash teasing the edges of his mind – he can sense it …just out of reach … something important.

Fighting the natural inertia of his body, he slowly swings his legs over the side of the bed – “almost up”, he smiles. A voice in his head says “sleep in five more minutes – maybe you’ll remember your dream.” Aiden laughs out loud at the thought – a daily argument with himself … and some days he loses. Not today though – he stands up and prepares himself for the day.

A little more awake after a shower and shave, he dresses and then walks into the den. The familiar musky smell of books greets him – he pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. “Now, who will I read today?” he wonders as he traces his fingers over the book bindings along his bookshelves. He stops at Anna Karenina – “Hmm, wonder why Tolstoy feels right today?”

Aiden pulls the well-worn book off the shelf and opens it. Without looking at the page, he slowly traces his fingers over the words. Feeling their texture as he recites from memory the first line, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

“Such a great first line”, he thinks with a sigh. Closing the book, he absently walks over to the window and opens it to feel the cool autumn breeze. He smiles at the sight of glistening maple leaves still clinging to their branches – defiant to the end – radiant with bold vibrant colors.

The fresh smell of wet leaves waft through the open window and makes him think of coffee – and breakfast at the café. Closing the window, he heads out the door with Anna Karenina firmly in his grasp. Images of a girl unknown momentarily flash through his mind – playing along the edges.

He continues to search his mind as he breathes in the fresh autumn air during his walk through the park. As he nears the café entrance, he feels flashes of her radiate through the book. He tightens his grip on the book, not sure what to make of the sensation. He feels warmth spread through him … and can’t help but smile with anticipation as he steps inside…

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Whisper Branch

He wanders through their woods
Missing her with each step

His fingers dance with the breeze
Expecting her touch

He ponders the swaying branches
Thinking of her fluid motion

He hears the rustling of leaves
Turns, expecting to see her

He stops at their special place
Sits to rest against their tree

He awakes some moments later
Her whisper kiss in his ear

He smiles at the sensation
She is always with him

Michael