Short Stories

Short Story: Snow Birds

img_4326It was peaceful here, in this garden. The monochromatic colors of the nearby flowers were like a feast for her eyes. She walked slowly along its path taking in all the smells, the scent from the freshly dug earth mingled with the floral perfume of the chrysanthemums. She walked until she reached the stone bench, a stark contrast to the arrangements around it, this was where she was heading. She sat, reaching to her side to brush her fingertips over the tops of the flowers. She sighed.
Pulling out her notebook, she sketched the scene unfolding in front of her. The breeze tugging at the leaves of nearby trees, blowing a few of the brightly colored objects fluttering to the forest floor adding to its already growing collection. She sketched quickly knowing the scene would change soon as the daylight was already growing thin. When she was satisfied, she closed her notebook, rising as she did. She sighed again, this time with a twinge of sadness as she knew she would be trading in this scenery for another today.

Today was traveling day, it was getting too cold in the northern states for her to stay and it was time for her to head south. “Snow birds,” like her, traveled south for the winter, avoiding the snow like the plague. Leaving this time was bittersweet, as she always traveled home in the summer, to Michigan. She grew up here and was often back to visit her parents. However, this season had been different as her parents were no longer with her. She always knew the time would come, but nothing prepares you for the loss. Losing both so close together, had both been a blessing and a curse. As one parent alone would not have coped well for long, with such a close bond as they shared. Now the trip north was solely to visit the land she loved – it was not quite the same.

Amelia reached the end of the trail, seeing her wheeled home in the shadows of the pines. Bessie, as she was named, the RV, was old. About fifteen years old, in fact. She had bought her old to begin with but had been traveling with her for eight years now.

Amelia climbed into Bessie, careful not to let her cat, Juniper, out. Juniper, she realized was all she had left in the world now. She sat down in her makeshift recliner, suddenly feeling exhausted. Pulling out her sketch book she looked at it, knowing she hadn’t done the scenery justice, but was glad that she had it. She put her sketch away knowing she couldn’t prolong it any longer. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Amelia started the engine, pulling away from the woods, slow and steady, for what may be her last time.

Categories: Short Stories, writing

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