Deep lattice of roots surged beneath me. The early morning sun gave vitality to my whole being. A euphoric feeling encamped around about me, and I reveled in the moment. Day and night melted together. Soon I felt the fullness of my branches as the season marched forward. Spring’s babies finally hatched, and I found pure joy in cradling them. The little wrens rested in my branches. I kept watch over them as their momma’s busily attended to their ever-growing hunger.
The merry-go-round of seasons rushed forward and repeated many times until a slow start of day found me looking over a brown meadow. I stood in my place dressed down for Winter. I wondered where Summer had went? The little birds were grown and gone; not to mention their nests had become Autumn’s dross.
Bemused thoughts thickened as my sleepy spirit slowed for a nap. On the hilltop stood my little farmhouse. My connection to it felt detached. Though I knew I was not always a willow. I could not remember myself as I had once been. A new family now lived there. An elderly couple with a child. Each night I noticed a boy about twelve standing at the window. He closely studied the woods and lea. I knew it wouldn’t be long until he spotted sweet little Allette. Our mischievous fairy of the meadow. I should be cross with her for turning me, but with the passing of seasons I love the feeling of new growth that fills me every Spring. For now, I am content in watching James stare out my old window. I also enjoyed when he would swing in my branches. He told me his deepest secretes and I loved his visits. The boy longed for a dog.
He constantly searched for the mysterious being that crossed the window seal each night. He set snares and a field camera, but never could capture an image. What he didn’t know is only magic can catch a fairy.
A angry wind blew in the first ice of Winter. It pelted me and all the valley. With the drop in temperature, I found it difficult to keep track of James. The need for sleep consumed me. I asked my friend Bernice (a little grey squirrel) to keep a watchful eye on the boy and give me a report when the thaw came. The last thing I remembered was her little fluffy tail squeezing into a whole in the eave.
“I should have fixed that,” I mumbled before I gave into slumber.
The meadow looked like a large expanse of ice merged by a woodland snow-glob to the north. The heavy ice had been just the base for a mound of snow that incased everything. James studied his surroundings. He took pictures of the curious tracks near his window. He lurked in the shadows of the window to discover, ‘the who,’ of it all.
His folks were elderly both 51 at the time of his birth, or at least elderly for first time parents. Sometimes he would catch them speaking in a foreign language. A musical sounding dialect that they had chosen not to teach him. Though he found that curious; there were more curious things going on. He intended to discover as many as possible over Christmas break.
His mom and dad had retired to bed hours ago. The lad had the entire house to himself. They had only lived in the house about seven months. The house had been abandoned by some aunt. He had heard wild stories about this place. He was intrigued how it all fit together. He sat back in an old rocking chair left by the previous owner. Most nights he would be found sitting in it watching the meadow.
He gazed out at the newly formed wonderland then slid out the window. Ready to play, and with the guidance of the Moon he built a snow dog, complete with a stick in its mouth, for playing fetch. James desperately wanted a dog but couldn’t convince his mother the benefit of such a furry addition. He hoped the clever hint would contribute to a Christmas miracle. What James didn’t know is at daybreak his life would never be the same.
prev chapter
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
