Gemotions

The sound of water lapping against the shore was a soothing balm to Anya's soul. She sat on the small dock, dangling her feet in the cool, clear lake. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, painting the water with golden hues. Her sketchbook lay open in her lap, but she wasn’t drawing; she was simply watching, absorbing the beauty around her.

A curt voice broke her reverie. "Anya, dear, could I have a moment?" It was Mr. Rodriguez, from next door, his face tight with concern.

Anya closed her sketchbook, a small smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Mr. Rodriguez. What's on your mind?"

"It's about the birch tree," he began, his voice strained. "The one on the property line. It's… well, it's casting too much shade on my tomatoes. I was wondering if we could possibly talk about having it taken down?" Anya looked towards the tree, its white bark gleaming in the sunlight.

She inhaled deeply, the fresh scent of the lake filling her lungs. The tree seemed like part of her. A long pause ensued. She then said, "The rustling sound of the leaves is a blessing," she murmured, "it's like white noise."