With his melodious humming, he was watering the flowers and the aroma of morning brew reverberated in the air.
He turned to me unexpectedly and greeted a smile. Maybe my stare was way too obvious. Flustered, I waved back and hurried to my porch.
The morning was warm and greenery everywhere, with the wind whistling and birds chirping. I could still smell his brew across the fence. Sipping my own, I flipped the book open, only to find a hazy memory of having the book already read; but couldn't remember when. To this, I lost my interest to read that book and decided to go out.
Grabbing my hat, I rode my cycle across the lonesome street with flourishing trees on the sidelines. The rustling of leaves and the shade casted on the street made the cycling fun. No wonder this saying exists, "You are one ride away from a good mood." - Sarah Bentley, British cyclist.
There was an enormous tree miles away, inviting humans for a shade of serenity. Soon as I braked near it, I saw my him resting underneath the tree.
"How come you're-" I was too surprised to finish my sentence.
To this, he turned to see me and countered "I'm a pretty fast rider you see." He continued "riding a bike under the spring sky sure is delightful. Isn't it?"
He was holding a book and upon seeing it, I blurted "you sure aren't suspecting Miss. Margaret for Jamie's death?"
"Woah" he exclaimed, putting the book down that covered his face earlier. "You've read this?"
Proudly nodding, I sat down and continued "and I bet you'll never believe that Jamie actually-" I stopped.
I couldn't remember what I was about to say next. I felt I knew few seconds ago. I was blank. I know I've read this before.
"Jamie actually-?" He repeated after me, raising his eyebrows in confusion.
I was frustrated. I couldn't recall.
"Well." He clasped his hand. "Why don't we enjoy the shade for now?" He picked up the basket beside and pulled out sandwiches and coffee from it.
"Here. Enjoy please"
"Hey, isn't this the same brew that you were preparing earlier?" I pulled it closer. "It smells so heavenly."
"Somebody already had their eyes on my brew, how could I perhaps drink it alone?" He chuckled and we burst into laughter. I laughed out of embarrassment.
"I'm sure Jamie.." I flipped the pages as I munched my sandwich and he sat there awaiting my words. "Things are quite weird with me lately" I complained to myself.
As he heard those words, he looked intently at me, as of holding back to say something, but soon he relaxed his expression and pulled the book from my hand.
"Hold up." He kept the book aside. "You don't have to be hard on yourself. You might have read the book, but forgotten. It's alright. Because we never loose it. Things remain buried somewhere deep within us, but never lost. You'll remember it somewhere, somehow."
My eyes were fixed on him as I let those word sink deep within. Him and his words were as mesmerising as the spring in the air.
"Doesn't the fading coldness in air reminds us about the gone winter? Spring remembers it, and reminds us altogether."
Yes. Surely it is. The gone winter isn't forgotten completely, and the returning spring treasures it within itself. The spring remembers winter.
