Wandering Minds

Memories Under the Oak Tree

In the woods of the country there stood a crooked tree, very different from the other trees surrounding it. The grass on which it was planted was dry, as there was a drought occurring in the countryside. The bark of this particular tree, a rich brown and wrinkled with grooves, was cracked in places. A large hole, half hidden by some thick green vines, moss, and dead leaves was hollowed out into the tree. A fat crimson cardinal was perched on a low branch, fluffing its numerous feathers, as birds are oft to do. The loud clicking of cicadas echoed through the woods as a young woman entered the wood.

The woman could not have been older than twenty. Her hair, a beautiful chocolate brown, was thrown into a loose braid, escaped strands hung around her sunburnt face. She had a slight frame that was covered by a faded blue dress, and a dirty apron was tied around her slim waist. A tanned hand hovered over the pocket of her apron and she slowly pulled out a crisp envelope. The woman sighed and sat down at the base of the old tree, the rough bark scratching against her neck as she stared up at the canopy of green above her. She watched as the bright sunlight filtered through the trees, tinging everything below it green and gold, very much like her eyes, which were emerald green with dark gold flecks.

She stared at the stiff envelope that was cradled in her hands. It was a stark white and made of a heavy paper, written on the front of the envelope in elegant black ink was a name, her name; Rosalie. Rosalie traced along the swirls of ink with her forefinger over and over again, imagining the person that wrote the swooping script. Deciding that she could no longer delay the inevitable, Rosalie turned the envelope over and carefully opened the envelope's seal, pulling out a carefully folded letter. With a steady hand she opened the folded letter and her eyes drifted towards the first neat line of ink.

"To My Dearest Rose," It began.

"I hope that this letter finds you in good health. I am writing to you on the train to Kensington, and by the time you read this I will most likely be settled into my new home in Bloomsbury.

"Words cannot express how much I miss you. How much I miss as your eyes light up with laughter, or how much I miss the sound of your voice telling me one of your fantastic tales. I will miss your family's farm and our days horseback riding in the fields. But most of all, I will miss being by your side, and relaxing under our secret oak tree in the woods near the farmhouse.

"I am deeply sorry for the way we parted ways. I only wanted what was best for us. What was best for you. I hope that you have it in your heart to forgive me, although if you're reading this, I can happily assume that you already have.

"Know that I love you dearly little Rose, and that we will be together again soon. Why before you know it I'll be on the train coming back home to you! For the meantime however, know that I am always with you and that you aren't alone.

"Yours Forever and Always- Thomas."

A tear dropped off of the bridge of Rosalie's small nose, causing the ink to blur and run on the paper she held so dearly in her hands. She silently read the short page over and over again, each time more tears fell, making more runny black dots to appear on the once pure white paper. She read the page until she could recite every word from memory. She read until all of the words bled into one. She read until her eyes were dry and her heart was empty.

Reaching into the the envelope Rosalie pulled out a folded over photograph. It had no date written on the back of it, only the words Secret Tree in Thomas' looping handwriting. The photo was faded, the black and white coloring becoming almost gray in the sunlight, but the original image could still be clearly seen. It depicted a young girl with long dark hair smiling up at a young man who was leaning against a crooked tree. Rosalie traced over the image with her fingers, remembering with fondness when the picture was taken. She focussed her attention on the young man that the not too young version of herself was looking at in the photo. It shocked her at how young he looked, considering the memory she held in her hands occurred only a year ago.