The Old Oak Tree

The Old Oak Tree

I knew it wasn't real, but I heard it as plain as day. I remember the moment like it was yesterday. I was sitting on my front porch thumbing through an old quilting magazine. Quilting has always been a form of self expression for me and I dream of making beautiful, breathtaking, intricate family heirlooms. None have happened so far, as i don't feel practiced enough to embark on such a treasured adventure. However, the dream is very real and cherished.

The afternoon wind is gentle and calm, and is wafting the smell of lavendar from my flowerbeds over underneath the old oak tree. A few people are out in the afternoon sun, but seem to be hurried and on their way to do what every they need to. I lift my head to the rustle of the leaves from the mighty old oak. The oak is in our front yard and provides ample shade for the front and porch area. There are also birch trees to the left forming the boundry of our yard on that side. The boundry on the other side is a hodgepodge of lilac, blackberry, and various other nondescript bushes. Together they sing a loud song when the wind drifts though.

And then i heard it. It sounded more like a creaking groan at first. A low soft voice said " It's humid out here today." It was a rather simple statement, but that's not what was so odd. I looked around to see if i could locate where the voice came from. "Don't look around, look up?" I look up but could still only see the rustling of the leaves. I felt my palms start to sweat, and my heartbeat quicken.

Who was talking? And were they talking to me?

"Whose there?" I say breathless, and timid. My mouth became dry and my stomache churned.

"Don't be afraid, it's me, your old oak tree."

"What....?" my head bobs, still looking around for someone who maybe playing a prank, and laughing behind a bush.

" You know," the low voice said, "the lavendar bushes make my bark itch"

"You've got to be kidding" I thought, "it feels?"

"Of course we feel," the low voice continued.

"Thanks for providing us with shade," I feebly offer.

"That's my privilage," the low voice finished fading a bit.

And then there was no more. I asked a few more things but never got a reply. I wondered if maybe I had snoozed and dreamed the whole thing.

Disquieted, I got up and went into the house. I decided to wash the few dishes remaining from this mornings' breakfast. Ever once in a while I glanced out the window at the old oak. Things looked and seemed normal. I looked down at my feet and thought, "Man, I must be losing it."

I never did hear the oak again. Autumn came, the leaves fell. Winter snow found its way to the area as well. When spring time returned I decided to dig up the lavendar bushes and replace them with impatients. "No particular reason", I thought, " I like impatients."