Searching for Spring

Small, soft clouds grazed the powder blue sky. The sound of birds chirping filled the air and served as the soundtrack to the quiet park. American Elm trees surrounded the grassy path. The trees covered the area, creating a cool shade, a stark contrast from the warm spring sun shining high above. The windy path wove through the trees and past the large pond, and continued far into the park. In between the path and the pond was an empty park bench.

The few sun rays that broke though the tree branches glistened on the water, creating a shimmering effect. Ducks floated atop the pond in little groups, swimming one by one in lines, following their designated leader. The sounds of nature created the illusion of an oasis, an illusion the bustling city on the other side of the park parameters couldn't replicate.

The animals carried on about their business, and before anyone had realized, a young woman appeared and sat on the park bench. She took off her backpack and pulled out a notebook and pen. The notebook was full of illustrations of birds, flowers, and ducks, but the most repeated image was the pond. She captured its stillness, its ever-changing colors, its persistent beauty.

She sat on the bench for hours; she sketched new drawings as life continued on around her. The day turned into evening, as the sun began to descend low onto the horizon. As she made her final strokes on a tiny drawing of a flower, the ducks waddled past her, single file. She smiled at them, and they seemed to smile back, as if acknowledging her presence.

The woman packed up her bag and began walking along the path. She walked for several minutes in silence, until suddenly the blaring sounds of the city pierced her eardrums; it was a drastic shift from the serene setting of the pond. She reached the sidewalk, and her mind must've still been lingering by the pond, because she walked right into a person crossing in front of her.

"Hey, watch where you're going", they said, scoffing at her as they continued to walk by.

"Sorry", she quietly muttered, her voice as soft and delicate as the flowers she was just drawing. With more focus, she looked both ways before crossing the street. She walked slowly but with purpose, and was passed by many people walking a much faster tempo. More and more people consumed the sidewalks, and soon she was merely a speck in the growing crowd.

She made her way down a side street, walked up the staircase to a beautiful brownstone building, and slipped inside the front door. Inside, she carefully removed her shoes and jacket and made her way upstairs to the second floor. The long hallway was lined with photographs until the bedroom door. She took her notebook out of the backpack and placed it on the desk against the wall. The walls of the room were covered in drawings and paintings of the pond; in the isolated bedroom the drawings looked more hauntingly beautiful than before. She looked at the drawings with familiarity, as if they served as a sort of comfort to her. Sitting on the side of the bed, she grabbed a photograph off the nightstand. The photograph was of the woman and another woman sitting beside each other on a blanket, laughing. Behind them, the serene pond, the sun glistening on the water's surface. The woman looked down at herself in the photograph almost with a sense of confusion, as if she did not recognize herself. Tears formed, and as she closed her eyes they rippled down her face.

The piercing silence was interrupted by the ringing of her phone on the desk. The woman sat still as the ringing continued, filling the room with unnecessary tension. When the ringing stopped, she got up to check the screen and played the voicemail.

"Amanda, honey, it's mom. Please call me back, I'm getting worried. I know you need space, but we need to know you're okay. I know you miss her. Please call me when you can. I love you."

Amanda's face was stark. She turned off the phone, crawled into bed, and the stream of silent tears continued to roll down her face.

***

Spring carried into summer, and the long, sunny afternoons turned into crisp, fall afternoons. All throughout the park, the trees changed from bright greens to deep, earthy reds, oranges, and yellows. All the animals seemed to be aware of the shift in nature; they adapted with the seasons. As the weeks turned into months, fall had fully arrived in all its beauty. Every living being seemed to be ebbing and flowing along with the changes, but not Amanda.

Amanda continued to appear without fail to the quiet park bench by the pond, always crafting a new sketch to add to her collection. She seemed at peace on the park bench, content with her task.

But Amanda wasn't the only one unaware of the inevitable change of seasons; the secluded pocket of park with the pond was still revealing in its spring airiness, full of life and green. The birds chirped, their song filling the space. It was almost magic, it depicted only for Amanda as she sat alone on the park bench, marveling in everything the place had to offer.

She worked passionately on a new portrait, one of striking resemblance to the woman in the photograph on her nightstand. She captured her long brown hair, her smile, her sparkling eyes. Amanda continued working as the world around her moved as well.

After spending most of the day seated on the bench, Amanda packed up her things and left. As she crossed through the park and into the city, the atmosphere around her shifted. Where there was just trees full of green leaves and a sky with beautiful sunshine, there was now crisp, fall air. People were walking up and down the crowded sidewalks, bundled in coats. Amanda was hit with a gust of cold air as she stepped out of the park, and the wind chill was a shock to her system. She pulled a jacket out of her bag and put it on with disapproval, almost like she didn't want to acknowledge the cold shift in weather.

Amanda made it to her house, and stopped before stepping inside. The street was lined with massive trees with red and orange leaves, some of which had fallen and created a blanket on the sidewalk. The neighbors had pumpkins on their porches, and some even had Christmas decorations prepped and ready. The world was changing, and Amanda was staying put, refusing to move forward.

***

Snow fell outside the window. The air felt cold, even from inside Amanda's warm, cozy bedroom. She moved with purpose around the room, taking the drawings off the walls and placing them into a box, the new home for her lingering past. She remained focused until the room looked bare, as if no one even lived there. Amanda walked to her closet and grabbed a long coat, beanie, scarf, and gloves. After putting on her outerwear, she picked up the box, headed down the stairs, and walked straight out the door.

She walked full speed ahead, pushing past eager shoppers walking in and out of shops with winter displays in the windows. She didn't slow down until she reached the park entrance. She took a moment to take in the picturesque scene in front of her: children playing with snowballs, couples walking hand in hand, holiday music playing from cars driving by. As she walked through the park, she made an effort to absorb everything around her, as if she was seeing it for the first time, because it almost was. Finally she reached the pond and stopped.

The trees were bare, standing lifeless. There were no sounds of birds, as they were long gone by now. The ducks were gone too. In the center of it all was the pond. It was frozen over, and ice skaters were gliding smoothly across the top. Their laughter breathed life into the air. The only thing that remained the same as Amanda's memory was the park bench, empty as usual. Amanda's gaze remained fixated on the frozen pond, the gears in her mind turning profusely.

It's okay, she thought. I'm going to be okay. She walked past the bench, past the pond, to a small fire pit, and placed the box inside. As she lit a match, a steady stream of tears rolled down her face, but these tears were different; these were tears of acceptance. She lit the box on fire, and the flames began to swallow the box, growing larger each passing second.

Amanda stood by the pit and watched the box burn. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief, that she could move on. She could see what everyone else could see, her mind was no longer foggy. She could accept the stark, gray sky and the lifeless trees and even the frozen pond. She cried and cried, until she stopped. The fire dwindled down, and Amanda put out the remaining flames.

With her newfound clarity, Amanda took a last look at the pond, setting her mind free. She could finally walk home.