Gemotions

Sunlight warmed Amelia’s face as she stepped onto her porch. The morning air smelled of damp earth and blooming honeysuckle, a perfect day for the garden. She hummed a tuneless melody, picking up her watering can, when a tremendous CRACK ripped through the quiet. A moment later, a plume of dust erupted next door, followed by the grinding groan of settling wood. Amelia’s jaw dropped. Mrs. Gable's ancient oak, finally succumbed to gravity. A wide, unbidden smile spread across her face.

Amelia clapped her hands together. She felt an urge to skip, a light skipping, but instead walked toward the edge of her property. Her gaze was bright. This new view might be just what her garden needed.