I recently found this charming blue notebook in my dresser drawer. I'm not quite sure how it got there, but no matter. I've decided to use it as a journal of sorts. As I look out my bedroom window, I feel the need to pen the scene I see before I move on to the day's events.
Forget-Me-Not Valley is a quiet little community. Everyone lives the way they want and is happy. I can see Gustafa sitting on a rock underneath the shady boughs of a tree coming into full green glory. He strums his guitar softly, its gentle voice singing through the breeze to the night. Nearby, Nami, easily distinctable from even this distance by her fiery red hair, sits, seemingly entranced by the sounds of the music. I have never seen her look relaxed like this before. Residents of the Valley walk to the Blue Bar for a quick drink, or head back to their homes. It is nearly eight o'clock; rather late to be out. They will need to go back to their families, to have a nice family dinner and conversation before bed. The sun has nearly set; it is by its few dim orange-golden rays that I am writing. Clouds are beginning to heavily fill the sky, and I feel a prominent wetness about the air when I am outside. It shouldn't be long until it rains.
Forget-Me-Not Valley is a lovely village. That's what nearly everyone says who comes to pass by or to stay. Something feels different, though. Something, or rather, someone, has changed the valley.
James.
Such a simple, old-fashioned name, but a quite lovely one. He's a new young man who has just recently moved into town. He's living on the farm across the bridge from Vesta's. You know, of course, the farm Takakura and James' father, David, ran. I only knew David for a couple years before he died, but he was a wonderful farmer. His animals all loved him, giving him only the best of milk, eggs, and wool. His crops always grew splendidly. We had always prided ourselves on growing the best crops in the area before David came to the valley, but I'm sure that David bested ours quite easily. All the fruits of his labor were renowned almost worldwide! He soon became rich, along with Takakura (who did much of the behind the scenes work, like taking James' things into town to sell and buying new equipment and such) but he never lost his kindness, nor his generosity, patience, and general all-around helpfulness. But I digress. I am writing to you about James, not his father.
Takakura (Such a nice man. A bit quiet, but I enjoy his company all the same.) brought James to our farm today. I suppose James was receiving a tour of the valley. Marlin was in the storeroom, and Vesta was in Mineral Town for the day, meaning that I was the only one outside. I was busy tending the crops (young watermelons need care and patience to grow well) and did not hear their approach until a gloved hand lightly tapped my shoulder. I turned to see James.
He was quite handsome, let there be no question of that. His brown hair was rather lighter than my own, but it was messy in a very cute sort of way. I was pleased to see that he wore traditional farmer's clothing, as if he planned to get started on his farm right away. The best thing I think there is about James' physical features, though, are his eyes. They are a beautiful chocolatey brown. I am afraid I stared into them and nearly lost myself in only a matter of a few seconds before he spoke and brought me back to the present. He introduced himself politely and cheerfully as James, who would be taking over the farm across the bridge, which he renamed Silver Birch Farm. I suppose I looked puzzled at his choosing of a name, for he laughed and explained that the Silver Birch was his father's favorite tree, and he felt he had to do something to honor his father's memory. How very sweet of him, don't you think? I believe I smiled and stuttered out a response along the lines of "How interesting. My name is Celia. It's a pleasure to meet you." With perhaps a few other words or sentences thrown in. James then flashed me a beautiful smile, saying he wished he could stay longer, but that he should probably get going and that he hoped to see me again soon. I blinked, but when I opened my mouth to say anything, he had gone, like a deer prancing through the large open meadows.
James seems a very nice fellow. Very charming. I do hope that we can be friends. I think he's the type of person with whom I can get along very well indeed. I would go visit him tomorrow, but I'm afraid to seem too bold. Also, luckily, Marlin and Vesta have arranged for me to go to the Pendula Valley – Silver Valley, as it is translated. It's a beautiful valley, as I remember – I have been there a few times before. They wish for me to meet a young man called Peter. I'm told he is a very nice fellow. Vesta wishes to arrange a marriage between the two of us, I am sure of it. I guess I shall simply go to see him and see what I think and what happens from there. I don't want to disobey Vesta's wishes, after all.
The final, futile rays of the sun have long since vanished, but by light of the moon I can still see outside. In all of its glory and splendor, the rain is falling, cascading over the valley in clear, shining drops, and resting at the ground, where the crops, trees, and plants eagerly await its arrival.