Gemotions

He’d walked the two miles on foot, enjoying the gentle exercise. The air smelled of damp earth and late summer foliage. He’d brought a thermos of tea, as was his custom.

He reached the spot. The space was empty. The tree he’d planted, the one that used to cast shade on the very spot he stood, was gone.

Taking a slow, deliberate sip from his thermos, he looked around. The wind rustled the remaining leaves, creating a soft whispering sound. A squirrel chattered from a nearby branch. He nodded towards the squirrel, offering a silent greeting. He finished his tea, then thoughtfully placed the thermos back in his bag.