The forest of memories

A frail, elderly woman walked along the winding garden path in a stooped posture, leaving her house in an obvious regularity.

She had wrapped a soft, woollen shawl around her shoulders against the crisp October cold.

An icy wind blew, rustling through the coloured trees of the alley, tangling the old lady's white hair.

She pulled the hand-knitted shawl tighter around her narrow shoulders. Soon enough she would have to stop her daily walks in nature, as the temperatures were dropping rapidly.

As she stood there, her hand resting on the fence gate, she looked down the end of the street, where a small pine grove stood.

It was a long time ago since she, Ivy, last entered this beautiful forest she hadn’t been in for such a long time.

But today, today was different.

She would finally go there, revisit this place of her childhood happiness, and take a long walk only accompanied by her thoughts and memories.

She didn’t know why, but these days Ivy felt an urge, a connection to this forest, wanting to revisit all of the places she and her friends enjoyed so much when they were young.

As if guided by an invisible string, the old lady slowly walked along the street toward the forest.

She used to spend so much time there, such a beautiful place full of nature’s delight. The small, faded piece of paper rustled softly, as she reached for it in her coat pocket.

She took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air and stepped determined into the woods.

A strong gust of wind rustled through the coloured treetops, Ivy smelled the scent of pine needles, and one could hear the melodic chirping of the birds sitting on the tree branches.

A certain sense of nostalgia overcame the old woman, as she walked along through the familiar surroundings, crushing pinecones under her determined steps.

Then she took her hand out of the coat pocket and unfolded the yellowed piece of paper. It was a map. It showed a clumsy drawing of the forest, with many red crosses marking special spots. These were the favourite places of Ivy and her friends when they were little, and to always find them, she eternalized them on this map of the forest.

The first spot Ivy would visit was an old treehouse she and her friends built one summer. The girls were very proud of it, not asking for any help and finishing it as a harmonious team.

Let’s go, Ivy said to herself, following a narrow, sun-dappled trail that was marked on her hand-drawn map.

As the leaves fell down the trees lining Ivy’s way, a deer silently crossed her path, calmly looking at the old lady with a sense of curiosity in its pretty brown eyes. Ivy recalled the first time she saw this kind of animal up close. She had just finished playing with her friends, and on the way home a deer crossed her path, just the way it did now.

The young girl’s steps had been happier and lighter after that encounter, after all, the forest animals started to feel totally safe and uninhibited around the children.

Ivy smiled as she thought of that.

The deer peacefully carried on with its business, which was most probably eating as much as it could before the cold season of winter came.

Before long Ivy reached the old treehouse, steadfastly being in its place for forty years.

Ivy looked up into the treetops, the view was just the same as it was when she was little, causing her to wish she could climb up the tree and enter their treehouse just like a young person would do.

But Ivy did not trust her joints, plagued by rheumatism, to bring her safely up the tree and back down again.

Therefore she only looked up at the dear treehouse one last time, ran her hand over the rough tree bark where she and her friends had carved their initials, and then focused on the next red cross on her map.

Ivy took the way through a lush meadow she so often used to run across, leading her to a little stream that bubbled along as carefree and lively as the wind.

Near the stream stood an old, gigantic Willow, bending its soft branches to the forest ground, creating a gentle, rustling sound when the wind was swaying them.

If one slipped through the curtain of leaves, one found oneself inside an enlightened room made of foliage and blossoms, filled with a wonderful fragrance, and that completely concealed the person that was inside of it from the people who passed on the outside.

That secret room was a beloved, cozy spot often visited by the young girls in the past.

Ivy and her friends would often have a tea party in this little natural sanctuary, as everyone brought some food from home, and shared it under the softly swaying branches of the steadfast Willow.

Now the old woman entered there too, sitting in the exact spot that had always been her favourite one. She could almost hear the cheerful and lighthearted laughter of the young girls, spending so many happy afternoons under the beautifully created Willow.

Ivy closed her eyes and enjoyed the rich smell of the damp earth and the fragrant wildflowers in the meadow.

She could hear the rustling sound of the leaves, the chirping of the birds, and the soft splashing of the brook nearby.

Then she walked towards it, and as she stood there, Ivy looked into the crystal-clear water and saw her reflection. She smiled.

It almost looked as if her younger self smiled back, playfully winking through the reflection of the water to herself. Ivy smiled as well and winked heartily.

She felt quite young and lighthearted today, this walk was doing her a world of good.

So would the next spot on the forest map, holding especially many memories of Ivy’s youth.

It was an old tree stump where she had hidden a few significant items of her childhood that she loved very much.

She reached the old tree stump and held her breath in anticipation. Would they still be there? Or did someone take these tokens of memory out of the hollow stump, not knowing of their worth and significance?

There was only one way to find out. Ivy walked up to it and stretched her arm deep into the tree stump.

There!

She could feel the little leather pouch, woven with decades of cobwebs, still containing the treasured objects of her childhood. Ivy pulled it out of the tree stump and sat down.

She opened the leather pouch and spread the objects out on her lap. Delighted and overwhelmed by nostalgic memories, she viewed all of the things.

The little collection of pine cones, they collected one for every member of their friendship group.

There was a set of colourful marbles they used to play with so often on the soft, mossy forest ground.

And there was even the rusted pair of binoculars Ivy used to observe the birds that nested near their tree house.

Then she saw a faded photograph that showed all of the girls standing near the brook under the swaying Willow.

All of them were happily smiling, representing the beautiful time they spent in this place.

A tear of moved joy ran down the old woman’s wrinkled cheek and fell onto the black-and-white photograph. She almost forgot her dear friends, for as the years parted the six girls lost sight of each other.

Happy about these newfound treasures, Ivy put them back into the little leather pouch that she took with her.

As she walked back, the photograph evoked her to thoroughly think about her past, and her friends.

All the girls had moved away, starting a new life, scattering about like falling pine cones on the forest ground. They lost sight of each other and didn’t stay in touch for many years. All of them were old now, yet they still were as resilient as their self-made tree house in the woods.

Enduring and long-lasting like the big, bending Willow, withstanding so many forceful storms.

Ivy thought of how beautiful it would be to reunite with all these women, her childhood friends, for all of them shared the same happy memories.

There was the end of the forest. As she walked towards the little house she recently bought, she was happy to call it her home now.

Whenever she felt the need, she could take a long, beautiful walk into the forest, visiting all of these lovely spots marked on the map.

As soon as she was home again, one could hear several phone calls being made to various places in the country. That same evening, Ivy went to bed feeling very satisfied, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

It was a beautifully fresh and crisp November day. The weather simply invited to take a long stroll in nature, being so magnificently adorned with its autumnal glory.

The little pine grove at the edge of the village was full of life today. One could see a joyful group of old ladies taking a walk through this beautiful forest of memories.

They were enjoying every bit of it, visiting all of the marked spots on a certain map, reliving parts of their happy childhood, joking and laughing heartily together.

The air around them was filled with a sense of reminiscence, and the feeling of community and friendship. They were all in the autumn of their lives, which didn't mean they could not be as lighthearted and carefree as when they were in their youthly springtime.

Joyful laughter echoed between the old, steadfast trees, filling the silent forest with a nostalgic atmosphere.

The forest of memories.