The Orchard

Where youth blossoms

 

I don't know about the little voice inside my head that tells me things. Sometimes, it says I crave pizza or a cheeseburger. Other times, I'm told that I've wasted my life. Is it just one voice in there, or several? Again, I don't know, but on this cold, winter day, I'm told to visit the old orchard at the end of Daphne Lane--a place I haven't been to in years.

I see it in the distance now, and my, how it looks different. It's not like I remember it all.

All right, I'm here. There are weeds everywhere. The trees look like they've not been pruned or cared for in forever. Why would anyone neglect them so? It was always such a beautiful place, especially in the spring.

My friends and I played here. Old Mr. Jones didn't care, just as long as we didn't climb the trees or damage them in any way. We played tag. Sometimes, it was kick the can. Heh-heh, that was really fun! I remember Evelyn Turner getting so mad at me for catching her that she hit me with a green pear. Being ten, I picked it up and hit her back. She turned out to be such a beautiful young woman. What a little jerk I was.

So, what am I doing here in this place of ragged old trees with crumbling bark? Did they want to see me again, now that my skin is as cracked and withered as theirs? Did they summon me here on this cold, grey day just so I'd recall those long ago times when we all were young and vibrant? When boys had rosy cheeks, girls wore colorful dresses, and fruit trees blossomed? 

I'm such a fool! Only a senile old person would hobble out here on this dreadful day. I'll be lucky to even make it back home.

Thunk!

Hey, something hit me. What on earth? It ... it's a green pear.

Author's Note

It's me, thinking about time again.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Delightful! I really love this little vignette, that brought me back to my own set of different memories, which often blot out the aches & pains of old age. Thank God I still have a fertile imagination, becuz the rest of my life is pretty barren these days. Your story celebrates this muddled acceptance in a fun but melancholy way.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. I want to believe in eternal springtime.

[Marie]

A good story, as always, I wonder where the green pear came from. Did he manage to re-enter his boyhood. THat reminds me of a poem that used to make me cry. When I was young.

[Woody]

hahaha old age will do that to you. hey, I'm not mocking, Sam. I'm almost as old as you (did you know that?) this is a nice little ramble down memory lane. don't we love those as we get on in years?

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Woody. Did you say you were 60? Oh, to be so young!

[Woody]

haha yeah right. young!