It had been a very long time since anyone had been up to the old oak tree. The fields were in full bloom. Even the center of the road had been retaken by the rich color of the golden winter wheat peaking its head out in the early March morning. Only the ruts refused to nurture any life. The ground so hard and compacted that nothing could break through. Sunlight burst from behind the fading storm clouds that had bathed the hills during the night.
Tara momentarily halted her trek to watch as the sun’s rays exploded across the eastern sky, like fingers from the gods. The crows that had been roosting in the oak, took flight and began their journey to the west trying to out pace the advancing sun. But they provided Tara a brief acrobatic performance as they swooped in and out of the light beams.
As she continued on her way, Tara fumbled with the objects in the pocket of her pinafore. She smiled faintly as she inventoried each item that she touched. In a moment of unabashed exuberance, she began skipping and dancing like the crows had done in the sky a few moments before.
In due course, Tara reached the oak tree. The early morning breeze caught other, older offerings that had been left in the gnarled branches; stringers of metal, and broken crockery, and glass bumped and clanked, and tinkled. At the base of the ancient tree was a shrine with all manner of offerings to the gods for wishes requested and wished granted.
Tara cleared her mind of all except the purpose of her pilgrimage. When she was completely focused on her endeavor, she stepped to the stone shrine and knelt before it. The first item out of her pocket was the heel crust from yesterday’s baked bread; so that she, and the gods, would never be hungry. Next came a small hunk of honeycomb from her father’s beehives; so there would always be good drink. After the grapes Tara laid a daffodil upon the shrine; so that her life would forever behold the beauty around her. Before she took out the last item, she took a deep breath and renewed her focus. Then from her pocket she withdrew a small wax figurine, unidentifiable to all except Tara. For within the wax was a few strands of hair from the object of her affection. As she lay the wax caricature with the other items she whispered his name, “Roberto.”
Tara maintained her concentration for several moments before she stood back up. The light of the new day burst upon the old oak tree and fields, covering everything in a golden light. She smiled broadly and turned her face to the sunlight. After a few more minutes she turned and began frolicking back down the trodden wagon path. Morning was well on its way and her father would be wondering where she had gotten off to.
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Thank you to moi at Cognitive Reflections for providing this Once more with Feeling photo prompt. What do you see? What stories does it invoke?
- Using the picture below write an entry using the picture as Inspiration.
- Write what feelings you get from the image, let your imagination run riot.
- Write a short story fact or fiction
- Write some Poetry
- Please keep to 1000 words or less