From where I am writing, I write with some kind of warm feeling inside me… the warm feeling known as love.
Long ago, my mother sat with me and explained to me how she met my father. She was originally a florist, selling vibrant floral arrangements when she came across my dad whom was looking for a bouquet to put at my grandma's grave; When she passed away.
Together, they found love when she wanted to get away from the stress of urban life and his freedom as a farmer gave her that sense of freedom and they fell in love.
Romance has never been a thing for me since I often keep my emotions to myself… but that changed this day.
On a wet and pouring day, I emerged to see that nature had already taken care of my crops, leaving the day for me to enjoy but, as I ventured to visit the mountains, the pattering of water was accompanied by this strange alluring music. It was almost melodic and real, unlike the recorded tracks made by bands of modern times. Maybe the valley is singing to me… or was it something else?
Anyways, as the rain fell on my leather cap keeping my head surprisingly dry, I followed the notes to where a stagnant lake existed at the foot of the peak but there, by a lone tree was a young woman; Her purple flowing hair faded in well with the darkened skies as she held a flute by her mouth, playing in lieu with the rainfall. I never ever had the chance to meet her but it seems it was here where I could. As I approached, she catches a glimpse of me and puts down her instrument.
"Oh! I didn't expect someone to come up here. You must be the new farmer." She spoke in a soft humming voice.
The way she spoke made my chest hurt a little, and my heart hitting harder than it should. Her pale face, the green eyes keeping me from looking away. My nerves started to show and made it hard for me to speak. But I have to introduce myself so I gathered all the courage so I can conversate with her.
"Hey… well… I don't think we've met. I'm Robbie." I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly.
"Come under the tree, you'll get all wet." She smiled and I walked under the sheltered canopy of the oak tree.
"My name's Abigail. I live in my dad's shop. When my family argue or get bitter with me, I retreat here to practice my flute. The rain is perfect cos it helps with the soul. I suppose you heard my song." She introduced herself.
"I guess… I never heard music in person before… the ones I heard off were either playing in jukeboxes or speakers… but to hear your flute feels… magical in a sense." I commented.
"Thanks… you're the first to ever notice my hobby." She sighed and continued playing.
Hearing the notes from her felt authentic and real, as if it had a soul. Resonating with the mystical properties of the valley. There is something alluring that was making me feel this way. Her voice? Her appearance or her choice in music? Maybe that was what's giving me this warm feeling, despite the coldness of the ambient weather pouring down all across the valley but to be near Abigail, as she played her tune, gave me a sense of security in this new world. I knew Robin from a young age and the fact of family love… but this kind of love felt… different… it felt the same as a child would towards their parents but… this is to someone who I never met before… could this be a sign of the emotions both mum and dad had back in the day.
Soon, the song faded away as she lowered her flute.
"Sorry… I gotta go home… my dad is going to be wondering where I went… and wants me back in the kitchen with Mom. It's been nice hanging out with you Robbie. I hope your new life as a farmer is a good one.
Maybe we'll meet next time." Abigail said as she walked the trail but turned to look at me once more...
"By the way… you look handsome for a lone soul. I hope we meet again soon." She hummed.
As I looked out as her velvet hair faded in the greyness of the rain. I couldn't help but think that maybe me and her were destined to meet each other someday. Of all the women, I met in this town but none of them seem to make me feel the same way as I did with her… regardless, I maybe could win her over with gifts. A farmer's life is never dull.
Sticking my hands in my overalls' pockets, I waltzed back into town to spend the rest of the day before heading back into the farm, to write my feelings in this entry… about the time I heard the song… the song of love.