an afternoon in the forest

The morning sky was brilliant; white cotton candy clouds floated gently across the blue on teasing breezes. Crisp autumn air kissed her cheeks as she meandered on the path, the sun and trees casting shadows to play along the brown earth as their feet tangled with bright fallen leaves as branches swayed high above.

Music from the gurgling river and chirping birds filled her ears and eased her mind. The sounds of nature flitted from the the forest as she carefully searched the tangled roots and rocks that bordered the edges of the river as it lapped at the earth. The young girl walked along with her, at times just ahead, exploring the way, performing her own search for the spot, at times right next to her, holding her hand in solidarity. The man at her side walked silently with her, keeping pace, his eyes on her and the girl.

The spot she was looking for had to be just so, the right combination of earth and water. She knew, in her mind’s eye, what she wanted to find. It had to be here. This was the place that called to her, that seemed to reach out and caress her cheek.

“Here” the forest whispered to her. “What you seek shall be found within.”

She had known the minute they had driven along the road and passed the sign, catching the wooden bridge that crossed the expanse of river from the corner of her eye. She had urged the man to find the nearest spot to turn around in so they could park and begin this leg of the journey. This place knew what she needed and was offering it to her. The young girl also seemed to know. She whispered her appreciation for the beauty of the forest as they walked over the wooden bridge into the shelter of the trees.

Her backpack bumped against her spine with each step she took, reminding her of their purpose here, the task that brought her and her family to these woods, and once again the soothing comfort of the swaying trees and forest sounds reached out to enfold her, to offer her solace. She gratefully let herself be lulled by the rich scents of the earth and water while continuing to seek out her place. The sight of the young girl darting amid the trees caused her to smile and ease the ache inside her heart.

There, she thought, as her eyes took in the small serene cove and how the river curved into it, the branches of two trees intermingled over the water, sunlight dancing through the turning leaves. River rocks gleamed from under the surface of the water as it brushed into the cove and then danced out again. Roots from the old trees thrust out of the ground, smoothed from years of river gliding over them, water grasses waving gently from the rhythm of wind and water.

The young girl had also known, calling out as she reached the spot just before they caught up with her. The man’s hand, which had been holding hers, gave a gently squeeze, comfort and warmth in the strength of his hands.

Nodding her approval, she said “Here” as the forest seemed to still around her, the silence reverent, accepting.

She pulled the backpack from her shoulders, easing the weight down to rest against one of the trees. She breathed deep, and eased herself down and back against another tree. The water itself seemed to still, moving slowly yet maintaining a mirror surface that reflectioned the clouds floating over head. It was beautiful here, she thought. And she understood the why this place had called to her, this river, these woods. The man explored the area, keeping a watch on the young girl as she laughed and scampered around the trees and boulders gracing the area. His deep voice rumbled over the air, words indistinct, as he followed. A few minutes to think, to play, to ponder, before the task was done.

From the backpack she pulled out the linen bags. They were heavy, with physical and emotional weight. As she untied the cords holding them closed, tears swam in her eyes, blurring her view. Her chest tightened with the effort to hold them back.

The man and young girl returned, the young girl reaching for one of the bags to finish untying the cord that held it closed.

Together the two opened the bags and crouched down close to the river’s edge, gently letting flow the contents into the water at their feet. The swirl of color as the ashes merged together was beautiful, a cloud formation underwater, echoing the forms from the sky reflected on the surface. The eddy of the water mixed and mingled the ashes, forming them into a whole. As the river gently tugged along the edges of the cloud, tendrils swept away, pulling toward the center and beyond, an inexorable tide.

The woman stood, tears streaking her face, the young girl leaning against her side, the man standing at the other, hand on her shoulder, watching, with awe, the beauty of nature’s reclamation of her parents.