Tres-Path

Write at the Merge; Week 10

This week we’re honoring the genius of Dr. Seuss, who was born on March 2, 1904.  Our two Seussical offerings are an image and a line from one of his books. Happy writing!

“I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees. I speak for the trees for the trees have no tongues.”
Dr. Seuss, from The Lorax

And because a birthday celebration should include everyone, if you don’t find either of these offerings inspiring, use your favorite Dr. Seuss quote or story as inspiration — just leave us a note letting us know what you chose!

I may have just chosen trees, which gives me an excuse to revisit the Elementals for a minute...

Chuck was gazing out the kitchen window when a movement caught his attention. He watched the young girl slide down the rough bark of the old oak in the back yard. She wasn’t at all dressed for tree climbing, her long legs were bare as were her arms. She didn’t seem to have shoes, either. The jumper she wore was far too frilly.

He called to his wife, “Hey, Beth, who’s the kid in the tree?”

Beth joined him at the window, still holding a plate and dish towel. She watched for a moment, then raised her brows, “That’s no kid, chuck,” she said as she lay the towel down. “That? Is a dryad.”

“A what?”

“A dryad, wood nymph.” Beth put the dish aside and headed out the back door.

Chuck muttered under his breath as he followed, “Wood nymph? What next, unicorns?”

Beth was already half way to the tree. “Whoa there, Toots! That oak is taken!”

The girl had started back up the tree when she saw beth approach. She hesitated, she had been caught by humans. Disappearing into the tree would not be a good idea, she dropped lightly back to the ground.

“I’m sorry, lady.” She did her best imitation of a young human girl, letting tears fill her bright green eyes and twirling a lock of honey brown hair. “I just wanted to play.”

“Give it up, I know what you are, and as I said, that tree is taken.” Beth glared at the nymph. “Whats your name? And no games, I’ll know if you lie.”

“Acalia,” she answered with a very unchild like scowl, “and how is it you know what I am?”

Beth looked Acalia over, she was too thin for even a dryad. “I know a lot of things. Except why you're crawling all over this tree.”

“I didn’t know this tree was taken. I need to find a new one, mine is sick.” Acalia squinted at beth, “You're no dryad, why do take this tree? I can make it a better tree, if you let me live in it.”

“The tree is in my yard, but I’m not the one that has taken it.” Beth said with smirk as the back door burst open once more.

“Get away from that tree, dryad!” cried the newcomer, her leaf green eyes blazing. “That’s my personal doorway!”

Acalia’s eyes and mouth fought to see which could open wider.

Beth chuckled, “Acalia, meet my mother, Tameryn Leafeyed, Element of Earth and Lady of Treecairn!”

Falling Leaves

For you, what does autumn evoke?
Show us in 300 words or less



I'm in love with the fall. Cool mornings followed by warm afternoons.  The air smells clean, freshly laundered. Scented with hints of burnt leaf.  As much as I love that smell, we don't burn leaves here.

Those unburned leaves are colored in the shades of the fire from which they were spared. They  rush across the lawn, blown by playful gusts. Some take flight, reaching for the branches they recently left.  Some are content to somersault across the fading grass.

They migrate from our yard to the neighbor's, only to return in a day or so.  They'll pile themselves around the flowers and shrubs.  Protecting the tender roots from winter's cold.

 I hear them crackling whispers to each other of summer past. Before the rains pin them to the gardens. Before the colors of glory fade to brown. Before winter's snow buries them with icy weight.  They blanket the sleeping plants singing lullabies of spring.

Drought

The Prompt: "This week, we're giving you a photo to take you back in time."

It's late June.  The spring rains have come and gone. The heat and humidity feel more like late July. The yard is scarred with cracked earth.

The flowers and vegetables, planted with hopes of summer color and fall bounty, are withering. The new fruit trees are trying desperately to force young roots deep enough to find water.

Every day, in the late afternoon, he pulls the hose behind him. He goes from garden to garden, sapling to sapling, soaking the soil.   Leaves that have sagged under the midday sun begin to rise with tentative hope.

He waters the new grass, but most of the precious liquid runs into deep fissures, never touching the young roots.  The only thing that keeps this spot green are old, established shade trees.

As the sun lowers in the sky I join him. We walk each garden together, assessing each plant.  We wish it would rain. We wish the stifling heat would ease. We wish for winter.

Flavors of Summer's Past

This week's prompt asked us to describe your favorite fruit or vegetable: the first time you tasted it, where it came from, where you were, what memories it brings.

Hot summer days. My brothers and I spent them outside. The half acre field behind the house was our haven. Overgrown, our paths through it well defined. 

Around the house were several trees. All perfect for climbing. 

We ate our first fruits there. 

The old cherry trees, with sappy branches. If we could beat the birds, we feasted on bright red cherries. So tart they made us shudder. 

Wadded up in the weeds were black raspberry patches. We ate them sun-warmed. The berries sweet and smooth flavored, leaving our fingers purple stained from grabbing. 

The old pear tree was stingy. Only producing every other year. Soft yellow-brown fruit. The sugary juices rolling from our chins as we ate. The cores dropped where we finished. 

The old concord grapevine. Almost wild. The skins were eaten first, slightly bitter. Then the meat of the grape. A full, sweet, lightly tart flavor that drew us back for more. 

And on the side of the road behind the field, one neighbor had strawberries. As big as our hands. I think we ate more than he harvested. But he never said a word. 

I miss those days. Eating the gifts of nature at our leisure. The flavors still stamped in my memory. 

Available on Craigslist

This was written for The Red Dress Club ,the prompt was write a humorous listing for eBay or Craig's List. Talk about the history of the items, why they must go.



For Sale: $1500.00
One fenced in back yard suitable for dogs. 
Rarely used, (dog prefers to poop in house).  
Comes with one large tree, (dog prefers dining room table legs).  
Partial flower garden, (dog digs up flowers). 
Ratty lawn furniture, (dog ate chair cushions). 

Special offer! 
$1600.00 rebate!*






*to receive rebate requirement must be met.
Take the damn dog!