The Field's Edge

With each new day the landscape gleamed greener, as new life spread across the landscape. Garlands of moonbeams and Spring’s gentle breath danced with every blade of grass. The tiny zephyr eased across my window seal. The cool breeze stirred my senses, and I lowered my book to lean forward in my cane rocker. Wondering what had disturbed my concentration.

Movement caught my eye. I noticed a long lean lass with ivory skin draped in a pale gossamer frock. Her dance like movements captivated my sight.

With smooth gliding steps she skirted the shadowy edges, nimbly moving toward my meadow.
The now silhouetted form sprang over the fence using a Pas de Chat. Then slightly turned back to look back my way.

Mesmerized, by her beauty I rose from my chair. She turned back to face the direction of her escape moving toward the brittle grasses of Winter.
My motherly instincts called out to her.

I yelled from my window, “please don’t go, come back,” but the beauty with flowing locks of black-ice-plum, ran faster.

It was then, I noticed a lustrous mantle billowing behind her.
Before I had a chance to think, I had skimmed out the window in pursuit. The moment I left the safety of my lighted room the vast outdoors wrapped the area in deep shadows.

Murmuring phantoms chimed.
Every branch and blade of grass saying, “’stop,’ ‘turn back,’ ‘you must go home,’ ‘leave her be,’ ‘she belongs to the moon.’”

But I could not turn back and continued to follow.

Soon the ‘pretty-bird, pretty-bird’ chime of the cardinal morphed into ‘run-home, run-home,’ but still I chased her.

I watched her run into the brittle grasses left over from last year, and this once human size creature stood barely taller than last year's rye. She continued running toward the heather and still her size matched the foliage nearest her. Then she went and hid behind a cluster of daffodils. I came to a complete stop confused and baffled as I searched the grouping of bright yellow.

One last time the grass and flowers whispered to me; “‘turn back,’ ‘go home,’” instead I moved closer.

She moved out from behind the safety of her flower, and what had looked like a cape had ruffled out to translucent wings. I stood in silence with mouth gapping.
The little nymph reached up and touched my foot. With a mischievous giggle she whispered, "wait here".

With no warning at all my bare feet began to tingle, and I tuned into a weeping willow and the gentle zephyr felt good in my branches.

Reviews

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Love it! I done read it a few weeks ago! Glad you have made more chapters!

[Cherrie Palmer]

Yes the story is still unfolding. It's been fun.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Can't wait for more!

[Cherrie Palmer]

I added one more :)

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Will read! Thanks for letting me know!

[KAREN]

This very interesting! It's like a fairytale coming to life for an older lady.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I have a tendency to toss in a willow in my stories. So I thought it would be fun to let the willow tell the story.

[KAREN]

Great job!