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A Reluctant Departure
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While walking down the trail today I heard the gorgeous sounds of a flute floating through the trees. At first, I thought I was imagining it. Then I thought it was my boyfriend Savoy who plays the flute. I remembered that I’d sometimes hear him play his flute during the summer months as I walked down the trail towards our house. The flute stood out louder than guitars or singing. I’d hear the flute float through the trees just as I did today. But it’s too cold to sit outside and play music now, and besides, Savoy was at his mom’s house.

Finally, I saw the back of a girl through the trees walking down the trail on the other side. She played what looked like a giant recorder… I stomped through the crunchy falling leaves towards the creek so that I could hear and see her better. She crossed the bridge to the creek and headed up the trail all the while playing that mystical music.

Somehow, I lost track of her as I walked further up the trail towards the woods, but then I figured she she stepped off the main trail to one of the side trails leading down to Amazon Creek. I walked to the next bridge and down what I call my magical secret trail which I do every day. I remember that I showed my grandson Jeremiah the magical secret trail as well as my great nephew Iyumni and how excited they were because it felt like you were in the woods even though the edge of Eugene was pretty much outside that special patch of woods where no one could really see you. In the summer months, the trail was filled with lush, green foliage such as horsetail, and all the deciduous tree branches covered with dark green leaves. And there were yellow flowers too, and large white ones. But now there are no flowers, and the branches of many of the trees are bare, but it’s still beautiful. I walk down and up that trail every day before I head into the woods. I don’t go down the little hill to the creek anymore because it’s muddy and steep. During the summer, it’s no big deal. The boys ran up and down those steep hills and jumped across the creek in different places. Now the creek is swollen with water.

As I walked down my magical secret trail, I heard it loud and clear… mystical and magical sounds of that flute-like instrument ringing through the creek and trees. I stopped to listen when I got to the creek. The notes were just a tiny bit deeper than the typical flute. The girl leaned against a tree on the other side of the creek. She reminded me of a pixie or a nymph… wearing woodsy colors of brown and dark green with a matching knit cap. I know that sounds crazy, but she really did remind me of a girl who lived in the woods. I stood still and listened and she finally noticed me… We waved to each other, and I asked her about the instrument.

“It’s a wooden, Indian flute!” she said. She held out the wooden instrument, and I admired it for a couple of moments. She told me her name is Cassidy and she lives down the street from me just past the burned up house. I knew exactly where that was. She looked so young yet so wise. said I told her that a group of us jammed and played music on the front lawn under the sweet gum tree during the spring and summer months, and into the fall when it was warm enough, even on Halloween which was our last jam of the season.

“Oh, I’ve seen and heard you guys! You’re right past the house with the white fence.”

I nodded. “Yep, that was us.”

I closed my eyes and listened as she played a little while, the sweet notes drifting across Amazon creek. I was reluctant to leave. I wanted to stay and hear the music, and I wished that I had brought my ukulele with me too.

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