The Old Oak and the Young Apple Tree
A short story inspired by old times at the YMCA camp and the loss of all those trees. The wind whistled with the scent of her blossoms. The old oak always admired the colors and scents of the lovely apple tree growing up the hill off the dirt road. He stood and observed from a distance, for more human generations than he cared to count. Watching as the people and animals passed his way. There was a scar of a heart with initials carved on his trunk. The scar came with the memories of childhood sweet hearts who spent their youth climbing his bows. Now the couple was wizened with age and came to him every few years to celebrate their times as children together. The younger generations spent their time under the apple tree. She would shower them with petals in the mid spring mornings or shelter them in the hot summer sun. The old oak was still taller than her and held more limbs to climb and linger under, but she was in an ideal place for the young ones to look upon