My Favorite Place
by Steve Humphrey
The sun was bright and the leaves of the tree were moving quietly in the soft breeze. At first I resented the intrusion of the voice, but as I turned and began to speak the words were a surprise, especially to me.
"Have we met?" Pure cornball, it was obvious to me and surely to her, but it was the best I could do. She stopped, framed by the knarled old fence posts in the distance and the gently canopy of the tree above us, and looked at me as if I were the intruder. Her hair moved gracefully across her shoulders as she smiled a polite smile and said,
"Excuse me?" She was not beautiful, but her presence was inescapable, it was as if that face had always been a memory, just now realized after hiding beneath so much trivial reality.
"I am sorry," more cornball, having lost my ability to think, "it's just that, I know you, well not really but I do know you." I knew I was staring and looked down, trying with all I could muster to find words that would keep her here. I looked up again to see her moving closer, "May I sit here with you", she asked, "I don't want to intrude?" I could see she was confused too, anxious to find the answer. My heart raced as I shifted, allowing her to sit comfortably against the soft curve at the base of the tree.
We sat there for what seemed like hours yet it passed in an instant. Just sitting there with her I knew my life had changed, and how very happy it made me. No more words were exchanged that day, a few furtive glances and the warm touch of her hand as I helped her up and watched her walk away. She turned and smiled and then was gone. What a fool I was, who was she, where was she, why was she, would I ever see her again? Anxious but smiling, I sat there, never wanting to leave, hoping she would return.
I returned the next day, took up my place, watched the clouds spread the patterns of the leaves across the long grass. It had changed, this place that had always been so familiar was now incomplete yet more beautifully perfect than ever.
Again I heard her before I saw her, "May I join you again" she asked as she sat down. I could not hide my smile, did not want to. "Please", I said. I looked at her, that face, that familiar face. She wore a simple sleeveless shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back, her hand on the ground scarcely inches from mine. As she turned and looked at me my hand moved to hers, touching, feeling, knowing.
Our fingers folded into each other, I was sure she could hear my heart beat, hoped it was in rhythm with hers. We did not speak this day, no more than we had, nor did we speak during the next few weeks as we sat together hand in hand, looking out over the old farm, there was no need, we were together.
Then she was gone, I returned there day after day, waiting yet just as I knew her, I knew she was not coming back. The time we had shared was pure, was without expectation. The time we had shared was never to be lost, it is here with me now as I sit under the large oak, wondering how long I had been here, my favorite place.