Gentle Reminders

A Short Story for your Weekend

Against the clouded sky, she was startled by the brightness of red in the leafless trees. There had been little color in her world since that day. Wrapped tightly in her winter coat, she sat on the bench overlooking Gentle Pond. She allowed the memories to play just beyond her vision, remembering the way he so carefully made his way around the edges of the pond. Casting his line. Watching the bobber. Walking to a new spot if there were no results, waiting impatiently for a nibble. Jim would wave for her to come and join him, but she was content to sit on this bench and watch from a distance. A chilly breeze brought her back to the present moment. The muddy edges of the pond were empty. No one called for her to come anymore.

That is when the noise startled her. A flash of red caused one of the branches to sway and she watched as the cardinal balanced himself near enough for her to touch. Her breath escaped in a mist into the frigid air as she looked at the beautiful bird eye to eye. He just looked at her with such familiarity. She stared at him as if to try to see beneath the crimson feathers to read his thoughts or know his purpose. 

When Jim died, the emptiness of life closed in around her heart. She missed so many of his ways. They moved out to the country, a place he had always dreamed of living. It was remote, but not too remote. The house was rustic, but not without modern convenience. The deck looked out over Gentle Pond, the view that caused him to set his heart on this place. She had agreed, with little hesitation, as he was so in love with this place. And it was peaceful. They observed many sunsets on a bench not so far from the pond’s edge. The buzz and chirp of an unseen orchestra filling their ears as daylight faded into the dark. They would walk slowly back to the house, hand in hand, the cool breeze of the woods welcoming their presence. 

They had no plans for their retirement years, other than to enjoy their days in the peace and natural beauty of this place. He cut wood for the fireplace that they would first light in the coolness of Autumn when the leaves began to turn spectacular colors. Enjoying time together in front of the warm fireplace on a chilly night was one of their favorite expressions of love. Jim found joy in two things. This place and this woman. Through seasons of contentment, their hearts grew closer together.

Then came the summer of this year. It was like every other summer. Jim would select the trees to cut and begin to stack wood in preparation for the fires they would enjoy later. It was hot, but he had never been afraid to work hard. The firewood was piling up and he took satisfaction in knowing how much joy this would bring to them when the days grew darker. After working in the woods on his property most of the day, he would grab his fishing pole and head down to the pond, always inviting her to come along. If he caught just the right fish, that would be supper for the night. If not, he was content to just be out there.

Gentle Pond stretched out beyond the borders of his property, sitting just at the bottom of the hills that surrounded them. It was a natural pond that swelled in the rainy season and sustained during the dryer parts of the year. Even when the weather took a turbulent notion, the pond remained mostly calm due to being protected by hills and woods all around. Jim had named it Gentle Pond when they bought the property. To him, it was a living reminder of the woman he loved. Calm and gentle, deep and spiritual. Even in the summer, when temperatures climbed into uncomfortable degrees, the serenity and peace she gave him made their time in the country perfect and fulfilling. 

But even among the gentle surroundings, nature provides her own dangers. One hot August afternoon as Jim shifted some firewood in the shed, he disturbed a rattler that had taken up residence in the cool shadows. The snake struck quickly and its venom began to flow through his system. By the time he got back up to the house and found her, his leg was starting to swell. She called for help right away, but the loveliness of living out in the country also meant that help was farther away. She held Jim on the porch as she heard the sirens approaching from the distance. 

The shadows were growing over Gentle Pond when the front yard lit up with the headlights of those who rushed to help. They did all they could, but it was not enough. 

He had always been so careful, so observant, so cautious.  But now he was gone. Funeral and flowers and family for a week or so occupied her mind. The empty bed at night left her unable to sleep well. Weeks have passed, but time doesn’t seem to matter anymore. She takes care of the necessities. When the days turn to nights, her mind imagines that maybe he’ll step onto the porch with a big smile. But she knows.

So here on this bench, on a cold winter’s afternoon, not long before the sun goes down, the cardinal lands on a branch in front of her. The vivid red feathers are a stark contrast to the gray clouds and the setting sun. His dark round eyes look directly at her, unafraid and yet unable to communicate. So she just stared back and became enchanted by the beauty of this creature who came near and stayed. When she stood to make her way back to the house, he did not fly away. 

Day after day she came to this same spot, and so did the cardinal. She wasn’t of a mind that somehow Jim had become a cardinal and had flown to her. She did wonder if maybe he had sent this crimson reminder that even in the winsomeness of winter, there is beauty to be found. She began to look forward to her time with the red visitor.  Through winter and into the early warmth of the Spring, he never failed to show up, and neither did she. 

When the leaves reappeared and she watched as the woods came to life all around her, she would sit and stare out over the calm waters of Gentle Pond, waiting.

One of those Spring days, her eyes were blurred with tears. She wept quietly on that bench, closed her eyes, and calmed her spirit. Her imagination presented Jim down on the pond’s shore, waving for her to come his way. He knew she wouldn’t, but he liked to have her attention. Just as she was about to call out to him, something brought her back to the moment. The branch gave a familiar wave and she looked with wonder as the red cardinal was there, as always. But this time with a rust-colored mate, both of them looking at her as if they wanted to tell her something but just couldn’t say the words. 

Still, she heard them. As they contentedly looked out over Gentle Pond with her, she knew it was time for the mourning to subside and be eclipsed by gratitude for the time she and Jim had together. Who knows what new life might be ahead for her? She looked at the cardinals and smiled. She gave a start when they suddenly flapped their wings and flew to create a nest and future together. 

The Cardinals didn’t come back to the branch by Gentle Pond, but every once in a while as she glanced into the woods from her front porch she could see three … maybe four … cardinals flying through the trees. The flashes of red and rust feathers signal to her that life today means being grateful for what we have at this moment. Jim would have agreed. Now so does she.

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It probably goes without saying but I am a complete amateur when it comes to writing fiction. I do hope you enjoyed it. All photographs were taken by me. If you liked the story or the pictures, hit that heart, please.