She sat out under bare twisting branches. Before the young woman a naked orchard of trees stretched over rolling hills.
Dawn brightened ribbons of cloud in the sky as she watched the far drive, waiting.
Wait for me here. She could hear the words in her mind. His voice echoing within her.
They had stood there, below the apricot tree, leaves glowing with the light of Autumn.
Beneath the Apricot tree, wait for me there. His arms had been so reassuring, full of hope and affection as he spoke.
Tears blinked from her eyes as she remembered. When will you be here, with me? By winter’s end? How long must I wait?
A full smile, had bathed her in radiant love. His laughter lessening the bitterness of their parting. I will greet you with Spring’s first bud. Hold one in your hand, and when the wind blows it from your fingers I’ll be here.
I’ll look for your blossom every day until then. She was true to her word, professing everyday her unshakable devotion to him standing in the same spot, waiting.
I’ll come for you.
Through Winter’s first frost and storms she stood. Braving the elements to stand under a half forgotten tree. All around her the universe disappeared, swallowed up into an eternal white shroud.
With a breath of wind, spring came, thawing Winter’s touch. She awoke from a cold sleep, and strode through the garden.
Beneath the apricot blossom. A familiar voice echoed from the past. And as a moth to the flame she found herself beneath the Apricot trees.
I will wait for him beneath the tree.
Above her white blossoms shifted and winked like the stars in the blackness of space.
He’ll come for me, I know it.
Rays of morning light illuminated the tree as the sun rose. Above her a single blossom parted from the tree and fell to her hands.
She watched as a breath of air teased pearlescent pedals. And then caught up with the wind it flew from her grasp and into the waiting arms of her love.
“By Spring’s first bud, I’m with you now,” he said with a smiled, “beneath the Apricot tree.”