Our small hands pressed the brown-grey shells together until our knuckles turned white and the hard covering split open between our palms. We pulled out the divided pecan meat while we laughed at the events of the afternoon. Although the soft nuts did not fill our stomachs as a hearty meal would we were satisfied. We could have cracked through an entire bumpy carpet of thick oval shells that lay under their trees and return tomorrow to be greeted by newly laid ground coverings. It seemed as if the mossy trees could have held no more nutty shells yet everyday the ones we had emptied the day before were replaced there on the dirt and grass.While we laughed and cracked and ate it rained. Only an afternoon shower, light. But long and steady enough to filter it's drops down through the mothering trees, sliding down leaves and gliding around the lush curls of grey moss. We did not move. We stayed and cracked and ate and listened to the wet slip from leaf to leaf to head. The rain trickled through our hair and we tasted the cool drink when we were able to catch some on our flat toungues.
Soon, the clouds drifted past, finding new trees to cover and new upturned mouths to fill. Maybe this time it would see a wood full of pine trees. It's droplets would not struggle through curls and leaves but effortlessly slide down thin needles to a soft bed of fallen brown.
Our hair stuck wet to our necks. Our clothes clung to our backs, our chest, our sides. We felt a chill in the once gracious shade of the trees and decided to move to the space between their overhang where the sun had room to warm the wet ground and our bodies. There in the weedy green, with satisfied bellies and wet tongues, with the sounds of nut shell falling on nut shell, our clothes dried in the sun.
Photos found on Guayayaba. She is pretty Great!I hope you weekend is full of memory making moments!
♥Emma
