"I do love gardening, Alice... I just miss Billy sitting next to me, helping to make sure I don't over water, or miss a weed."
"Marge, you should get back out there. You haven't so much as set foot in your garden since he passed. It's becoming a real jungle."
"You win... But only if you promise to help me tame that jungle," laughed Marge.
Two days later:
"Well, the garden has been weeded and the soil is ready! The rest is up to you Marge," Alice said, wiping the sweat from her brow.
"Thank you, Alice. It does feel good to be out here," admitted Marge.
"Do you want me to stay a while?" Alice asked, knowing how hard it was to face the memories.
"I think I'd rather be alone for now... Maybe you could come over on Saturday, and help with pruning the rosebushes?" asked Marge.
"Of course. But if you change your mind, just give me a call," said Alice kindly.
"I'll be fine, I'm twenty three, not three," laughed Marge.
An hour later:
"I'm glad Alice talked me into this. It feels really good to be out here," Marge thought contentedly, as the warm sun beat down on her back.
A few seconds later, she took off her gardening gloves, just to feel the cool soil in her hands.
"What's this? It looks like a seed, but I've never seen one like it before. Such an iridescent shine - and it's sort of a turquoise blue, I think..." she marveled, as she gently washed it in the watering can.
"I wonder what it could be?" Marge asked herself, cleaning off her hands, then pulling out her phone.
After taking several pictures, she dug a small hole where Billy had planned to plant an oak one day. "Whatever you are, you'll have plenty of room here," whispered Marge as she patted the rich soil gently.
Two weeks later:
"Well, welcome to the world, little plant! Aren't you a strange one... Those little dots on your stem look almost like eyes. And your leaves almost look like arms and hands. I wonder what you'll grow up to be?" Marge asked the strange little plant.
"Oh... I'm just being silly again," she thought to herself, as she went on with her gardening.
Four months later:
"You certainly are strange! Sometimes I could swear that you're watching me," Marge said to the now two foot tall plant
After she watered the plants, she went back inside. An hour later, it poured. The steady rain continued through the night.
Early the next morning:
"I hope that rain didn't kill any of my plants... I wish I hadn't watered them last night," she fretted.
After a cup of coffee, Marge went outside. "Oh no! Where did he go? He couldn't have been washed away?!?!" she exclaimed, looking at the spot where the strange little plant had been just last night.
Allowing herself a minute to mourn, she then went to check the other plants. "What are those strange holes in the soil, right next to each plant? How odd, there's a tiny puddle next to each one," she thought curiously.
"How on Earth?!?! This is impossible," she gasped.
Sitting over by a group of very soggy rosebushes was her missing plant - upright and firmly rooted in the ground!
"How did you get over there?" Marge asked, perplexed. She shook her head, then satisfied that her plants had survived, went in for breakfast.
"I guess I'll go do some weeding. It is a beautiful day," she thought to herself, as she put her glass and bowl in the sink.
"Am I going crazy?" whispered Marge. Sitting back in its place of honor was the strange little plant!
She went over to check it, and it appeared to be perfectly healthy, firmly rooted in the rich soil. She then walked over to the rosebushes, and found a similar hole and puddle. Just like those by the other plants.
"Well, little friend. Did you save my garden? Thank you!" Marge said, feeling a little foolish.
A year later:
"You certainly are a fine sapling. I can't find anything like you online or in the botanical gardens, which somehow doesn't surprise me. I've always felt that you are one of a kind," Marge said fondly.
As if in response, the delicate branches swayed. "I didn't feel a breeze... Maybe I'm just imagining it but I don't think so," she thought.
"I sure hope whoever is moving in next door is nice... I really miss the Fergusons! It was such a shame that Carl was transferred halfway across the world," she mourned, as she watched two large men unload a truck full of furniture and boxes.
Marge went indoors to fix lunch, and took the sandwiches out back to enjoy in the garden. She gasped.
"Oh, no! What are you doing over there?!?!" she asked, looking in horror at her sapling. It was now firmly rooted in the new neighbor's yard, right by a bedroom window.
"I guess there's nothing for it... I can't get in through the back, so I'll have to go introduce myself. And hope he will let me come over and get you," she said worriedly.
Marge reluctantly walked over to the house next door, and knocked on the front door. "Hello, my name is Marge Schultz. I'm your new neighbor. This is going to sound strange, but one of my plants somehow ended up in your backyard," she said, feeling extremely foolish.
"Sean Ritchie. I just moved to Carresville, it's a relief to see a friendly face!" exclaimed Sean, extending his hand.
About the same age as Marge, his genuine smile put her at ease.
"I'm really sorry to bother you right away. I don't know how this happened," she said truthfully.
"Oh, don't worry. It was probably just kids playing a prank. Oh, to be a kid again," he laughed.
"I wouldn't mind that," she agreed laughing.
"Well that definitely wasn't there when I looked at the house! Weird how the ground doesn't seem to be disturbed though... Would you like me to go look for a shovel?" he asked.
"Oh no, I know how hard it is to find anything when you're moving! I have everything in my garden shed. I just made sandwiches before I came over, would you like some lunch?" Marge asked hopefully.
"Yes, thank you. I didn't even eat breakfast, I'm starved," he replied eagerly.
After a quick lunch in the kitchen, the two new friends went into Marge's backyard to get the shovel. They both stopped, and Sean's jaw dropped.
"That's impossible," Sean whispered. He walked over to the sapling, and looked at the undisturbed ground. Then he looked at the now empty spot by his house, the grass completely undisturbed as well.
"There's no way kids could do that, especially so fast. What a weird little tree," he said in wonder.
"It certainly is," agreed Marge, smiling.
Six years later:
"Mommy, Daddy, can we please go to the fair tomorrow?" asked a child, as she pushed her golden curls out of her eyes.
"What do you say, Marge? Do you want to go?" Sean asked.
"Why I thought you'd never ask," she said, smiling.
Thirty years later:
"Marge, come look!" shouted Sean.
"What's wrong, Dear?" asked Marge.
"Our tree... It looks like it's got fruit on it. But not just one type. There are apples, orange, pears, and bananas. Even things that shouldn't be on a tree, like strawberries," Sean said in awe.
"Well let's taste something!" Marge said excitedly.
The couple each selected a piece of fruit. Sean took a beautiful red apple, and Marge selected a golden pear.
"Delicious!" exclaimed Sean, wiping the juice from his mouth.
"Perfect," agreed Marge, as she closed her eyes in pleasure.
"Marge!" Sean almost shouted, his eyes widening.
"Yes, Sean?" she asked, eyes still closed.
"You should really have a look in the mirror when you get inside," he said. His initial shock had turned to pleasure, and by the time she opened her eyes, he was grinning.
"So should you... I hope I'm not dreaming," she said happily.
Well if you are, I'm having the same one," he laughed.
The now young couple walked back into their home, eager to call their children and arrange a video chat.
Describe what you see:
I see an arm, and a hand with a garden glove on it. It's slender, probably a woman's. Her skin is pale, like she's been inside a lot. She also seems to be fairly young.
I also see freshly worked soil, plants, and a hand rake.
Describe what you feel:
I feel like someone is connecting with nature.
