Summer's Fall
The beams of the early morning sun reach up from the horizon to set the clouds sprawled across the sky aflame. Yellows, oranges and reds of the autumn trees cloaking the ancient mountains mirror the vibrant majesty of the sky.
A cool breeze caresses her flushed cheek as her throat closes around a sob threatening to rip its way free, strangling it. Dull pain intensifies in her heart as memories rush to her mind. Memories of shared days and evenings in these mountains. Memories of a woman alive in the summer of her life, as full of joy as the landscape around her.
A sigh pulls free of her mouth as she reaches into her knapsack, the dull brown material giving no clue to the precious cargo it carries, and pulls out an elegantly decorated ceramic jar. Painfully, she swallows another sob, feeling it pulsate where it lands in her chest in sporadic time to the awakening chirps of a bird in a nearby tree.
She pries the lid open with a deep breath and trembling hands. The gray ash fills the container halfway, and she finds herself surprised once again this bit of dust is all that’s left of a woman who had held her so many times, cared for her when no one else would, was a friend to her when she was alone. Dreams shared, memories made, reassurances exchanged.
Tears anoint her face as she swings the jar out towards the sun, setting the ashes free to dance among the crisp winds with red veined, yellow and orange leaves. She watches silently as the dust swirls and pirouettes in the dancing air, the sun catching it and turning it into faerie dust, until it finally becomes one with the enchanted surroundings.
“I love you, mom,” her voice trembles as tears trace their way down her face. “I’ll miss you.”