Amalli Quinn: The Nature of Stars

Sunset

"Hey,"

"Hey,"

I smiled at the blonde hair blowing in the wind, gently brushing against the tip of Merethe's nose. "You're early." I noted, walking up to her side.

Mer sat on one of the apple tree's bare roots. It had grown out of the ground at some point, and made a rather decent bench for people who liked to enjoy the solemnity of the quiet grasslands, where the tree stood, bare of leaves and more of a skeleton than a living being. This tree was long dead, but it made itself famous by being the only apple tree in the entire town, so even with its withered bark and the gothic emptiness of its branches, it still stood as a monument to some of the townsfolk.

Merethe stood as I approached, getting her bag and hiking it high on her broad shoulder. She smiled back, her hair blowing into her mouth and making her shake her head in an attempt to get it out.

"Rather windy today, isn't it?" I said.

"Yes. Yes, it is." she pulled the last strand from her lips and huffed. "We have about two hours till sundown."

"That doesn't seem like much time."

"It will be enough if you start spilling now."

I shook my head. "Let's get to the observatory first."

Merethe only nodded, and let me lead the way, softly humming a Taylor Swift song to the melody of the blowing winds.

I scaled the path, seldom noticed and seldom walked, to a clearing in the local forest. This forest wasn't the scary, horror movie type of woodland one might come to expect in this quiet town of ours. In fact, it was quite enchanting. The trees weaved their branches in a natural web, casting artful shadows on the grassy floor, and the first line of trees gradually thinned at the edges, creating a crescent-shapped glade that looked like a fairy's garden. Weeds and flowers of all sorts sprouted up in random places, tall grasses lined the place, and the overall feel was close to that of a medieval countryside's.

As a child, I used to run down a dirt path that went behind my house and around the clearing. My father, who went with me on the weekends, let me play in the clearing till sunset, when he'd put me on his shoulders and carry me home. At times, we laid down on the ground and watch the stars, feeling the grass tickle our bare feet and the wind blow across the grasslands. The clearing carried a sweet memory of my youth, and of the carefree way I used to live before my eyes were opened to the truth about life and our ways of living.

"It looks greener than when I last saw it." Mer commented, tilting her head in the direction of the glade as we neared.

I nodded. "The past few weeks of rain did some good."

"How often do you visit this place again?"

"About twice or thrice a week. Four times if I'm not busy.

"Don't your parents get scared or worried when you're out here by yourself?"

"Dad lived his entire life in the house we live in now, so he's fine with it. Mom doesn't really care where I go, as long as I return home in one piece."

We trudged our way through the grass until we reached the middle of the glade, which was cleaner and flatter, mainly because I made it a routine to stamp down the grass every now and then, just to keep my personal space free of too much growth.

Right at the center of the clearing was a moss green tent, held down by pegs and rocks, and shut with a padlock. This tent, which my father put up when I was nine, was given the name 'the observatory' and made to make me feel like I was an actual astronomer, studying about the stars and doing what I loved. In the midst of all the grass and the bushes, the observatory looked more like a moss-covered boulder with smaller rocks surrounding it.