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Country Roads
As I travel down this lonely country road, I am crying. The trees embrace me like a long lost relative. You are so tall and stately, strong and beautiful. I cannot help but wonder about all that you have seen. So many years you have been standing here. Initials carved on your sturdy trunks, swings hanging from your branches blowing gently with the breeze. The wind whispers softly through the leaves, “Come, let me tell you of the loves I have known.”
The beckoning becomes stronger. I can no longer resist. I pull over. I spy a path lined with fragrant honeysuckles. I take a deep breath, overwhelmed by the beauty of this woodland paradise. Off in the distance, I can hear the splashing of a brook. I lay my blanket out under a towering oak. I close my eyes.
A young man helps his sweetheart down from the carriage. She is giggling in that special way of those young and in love. They gaze longingly into each other’s eyes as they walk along this same path that I have taken. He drops down to one knee and says something to her that I cannot hear. She cries as he slips a ring upon her finger.
I stir, but fall deeper into my slumber.
The children are giggling and playing in the meadow. Their mom and dad sit together away from the clatter of the horses trotting up the lane. I see in their arms a new little one, sweetly cooing and gurgling. They are all so happy.
Again, I stir and fall deeper still into this almost trance-like state.
I see another person unknown to me. An elderly gentleman, holding a bouquet of beautiful red roses, walks better into view. On his cheek, there is a tear. He kneels down by a small marker that until now had been hidden from my view. He places the bouquet upon the marker and whispers, “I love you.” He gets up to leave, and I see his face more clearly. He waves to me and walks away.
I am so surprised by his acknowledgment of my presence that I awaken. I take another deep breath and come back to reality. I walk around to all the places where I saw the people in my dream. But was it a dream?
Over there, where the babe was, I find a silver teething ring. And there, where the young lovers were, a hat pin is tucked neatly in the grass. And here, where the gentleman knelt, is the marker with a dried bouquet of roses, the ribbon faded by sun and time.
I go back to the road and to my car. I hear the winds still whispering, and in my heart I know I have seen the same loves that the trees have known through the years. And my heart is overwhelmed with that love. And I cry, this time for joy.
©17 May 1997 Suzanne G. McClendon
Please be sure to read David’s post over at Random Thoughts and Observations.
Please also visit Rosema, our hostess, over at Word-High July.
Disclaimer: These Filipino word images are from an article by Isabelle Laureta on BuzzFeed titled “36 Of The Most Beautiful Words In The Philippine Language”. All credit goes to them.
oh wow, wow Suz. You are one gifted writer. This is visually vivid and beautifully emotive. ❤
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Thank you, Rosema. This was written a very long time ago. So much has changed since then. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get my voice back. Thank you again. Have a beautiful evening. 🙂
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Oh dear. Someone told me once that writers never lose that voice. It is always in us. ❤
You are welcome and you have a great day!
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Then, I think mine is playing hide-and-seek. 🙂 You have a great day, too!
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it might! you can still catch it my friend! 😀
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I’m definitely trying. I am always looking for writing prompts and trying to write even when my mind is blank. Thank you for the encouragement, my friend. 🙂
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Oh wow! You can surely find your muse, soon! ❤
You are welcome, my dear. ❤
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I hope so. 🙂
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❤ ❤ ❤
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A wonderful short story Suzanne. Trees are magical and have inspired many poets and writers. Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you, Davy. One of the best trees that I’ve ever seen is a live oak in a state park about 30 miles or so from us. I’ll have to post a picture of it soon. I love trees and we have a yard full of them. Have a blessed day.
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Thank you Suzanne. It would be nice to see. Enjoy your day.
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I will let you know when I post it. So far I’ve only been able to locate the pastel that I created from the original image. Enjoy your day, too.
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I have the tree posted now, Davy.
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This is such a beautiful and beautifully written story! My muse often hides too, but I can usually find her among the over-flowing storage cabinets in my brain. Once the flow is started it usually will continue…if its junky cross it out–the good stuff is there too. 🙂
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Thank you for your sweet comment and encouragement. 🙂
It would be great if our muses would never be naughty and hide from us, wouldn’t it? What do you do to get the flow going in the middle of a drought?
Have a blessed day. 🙂
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a drought…good one! I just start writing (in pencil in a notebook) some words, and keep it up until something sensible/decent/nice comes of it…which works, eventually. I enjoy writing poetry, but I try to avoid publishing poems that just don’t “work.” I find scribbling a “rough draft” gives me something to hang it on, and then sometimes the actual words I want will occur. (or not) Thanks for the idea…I think I’ll write a post about this. 🙂
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Thank you. I have files full of what I call “poem starts” on this computer. Some eventually get somewhere, others just stay there unused. I learned a long time ago that I shouldn’t delete even those that I think are stupid because some day something good may come from them. I prefer composing with pen and paper over the computer. Something about holding the pen versus the distracting clicks of the keyboard is freeing.
You’re welcome. Please do let me know when you write it. I would love to read it.
Have a blessed day!
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I rarely compose on the computer, as although I’ve been a computer freak for decades I still have a dread of losing stuff I want to keep. I prefer pencil and paper notebooks for drafting, I like the eraser because I like it to be clean. I like the Bic ones with the retractable lead because they stay sharp.
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I prefer paper copies of everything, too. I was going through some things the other day and found a few of my old writing notebooks where I’ve started various stories in pen. Maybe some day something will come of those stories. While I use a pencil in some instances, I don’t like how it tends to smudge on me. Pens do, too, sometimes, but I don’t have as much problem with those as with pencils.
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often a thought I think is stupid turns out well with a tweak here or there. OH, I published the post I mentioned yesterday, it’s called “when the muse keeps quiet…” actually have written on the subject often…usually when I can’t think of anything to say 🙂
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Thanks for letting me know. I’ll head over there shortly to read it. I look forward to it. 🙂 I have, on occasion, written posts about not being able to write. It seems I can go on forever on those posts, but not think of anything *real* to write.
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this is lovely. I like especially like the sentence: ”The wind whispers softly through the leaves, “Come, let me tell you of the loves I have known.”
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Thank you. I think that nature has a lot to say to us if we would just take the time to really listen.
Thanks for visiting and commenting. Have a blessed day. 🙂
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Oh, I love everything about this post Suzanne. Thank you for the dose of inspiration. ❤
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Thank you, Maria. I am happy to have inspired you. 🙂 Have a blessed day.
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