“Now tell me your problems,” said the tree as it kneaded a knot out of the woman’s lower back.
“I’d rather not,” she replied. “I’d rather rest.”
“Ok you close your eyes now,” the tree responded. “Just relax.”
…
“What are you thinking about?” The tree asked, noticing the woman’s eye settled on the rising sun.
“My friend,” she responded.
“She was beautiful like the horizon,” the tree said, gently shaking it branches, playing a musical eulogy. The woman watched as a leaf fell down to the ground.
“I loved a man,” she said picking one up, pulling it apart in her fingers.
“And he thinks about you,” the tree reassured. A turkey gobbled across the land, back from where she came from.
“It’s too far away?” The tree asked.
“Yes,” she answered. “It won’t come here.”
“So we will wait for another,” the tree replied.
…
“My feet are numb,” the woman said as she slowly pushed her feet straight out before her.
“Stand up. That will help you feel better. Move slowly, and I hide you so you won’t be seen.”
“Thank you,” she replied twisting her neck. “I sit around too much,” she said, rubbing her legs.
“Then go for a walk,” the tree replied.
“I need to stay still right now,” she answered. “I will when I get back.”
“Ok. When you get back,” the tree nodded.
…
The woman heard a distant shot, and watched as the day slowly left her. She stood up pressing a palm against the tree for support. She hefted her shotgun over her shoulder and sighed preparing to leave.
“I want to be…”
“Then be,” whispered the tree. A group of turkeys gobbled from atop a roost nearby. “I will see you tomorrow.”
