A First: Audio Blog (Ramblings)

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The day to day...click here to hear me update you on stuff.

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What the Young Tree Whispered in my Ear

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I rested my head against the car window, adjusting my angle to avoid the sharp noon sun rays. They filtered through the thinning foliage of the young tree that caressed the car door. I looked up lazily. She was not a big thing, young - but not too young. She had not seen many winters I suppose, but enough at least, to give me respite against the glare of the sun, the kind of glare that looks specially sharper in the midst of winter. Until then, I had not noticed the tiny red flowers that were scattered scantily all over her branches. They danced in the soft breeze, carelessly, along with their green counterparts. The beauty of the scene mesmerized me, until nothing in my peripheral vision existed any longer. Suddenly, it was just her and me.
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For a couple years now, I haven't really read a book - as in properly - as in with the respect it deserves. Without distraction, with a cup of tea, without my mobile in close proximity, but with my favourite cushion giving support to whatever part of my body that needs it.  It was not due to a lack of books. Indeed, I have a healthy pile of all sorts of books waiting to be read: mysteries, self-help, thrillers, classics - you name it. Was it perhaps a lack of will power? Whatever it was, this tiny mountain of books would nag at me whenever I'd open the cupboard to grab an extra pen. Sitting pretty on the shelf, they would seem to nag at me, jeer at me and taunt me for being weak. The door would quickly and adamantly be shut and that would be that.  Then it all changed. Unexpectedly.  With my young niece and nephew having recently moved in with us, and with me being an English teacher (trumping me being their aunt in this matter), it was incumbent upon me to instil within ...
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She sat still for a bit, slightly anxious, on a bench near the gate. Every now and then she would look towards the watchman for a sign that her car had arrived to pick her up. I sat by her, observing her innocence, her determined chin and wisps of hair that waved in the soft gushes of wind, for it was an unusually pleasant afternoon. She looked at me apologetically, her face flushed slightly as she uttered how sorry she was that I had to wait because of her. 'How ridiculous', I thought, shaking my head slightly. Out aloud I said, 'I wouldn't want my daughter to be left alone under such circumstances, how can I leave you?' She smiled, and turned to look at the gate, failing to notice the tears well up in my eyes, for she even looked like my eldest. I toyed with my cell phone, after all, no young teen would engage in friendly banter with a high school teacher, it was just not done. As I was lost in a chain of thoughts that was stirred up by the thought of m...
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