All about the Pines
There was neither geometry nor symmetry in this little corner of the woods.
The rustic wooden benches and stools looked sad and embarrassing to contemplate.
But the majestic pines looked on.
Running past on your Sunday jog, you wouldn’t take a second glance, but rather, avert your gaze whilst running alongside.
Meanwhile, above their canopy, the pines were eager and shivered in the late winter chill.
All around those benches, the scorched pine needles lay haphazardly and if you strained your imagination, you would hear the crackling sound they’d make underfoot.
All the while, sap was flowing silently towards the tips of the pine’s branches, in anticipation of the impending Spring.
Inevitably, after the last gusts of Winter, the Park Wardens would work their magic and this woodland spot would once again welcome childish laughter, fretful parents and makeshift bandages.
Once again you would hear the snap of the sandwich box, the rustle of the crisp packet and the Pffshttt of the fizzy drink can.
And the pines would, of course, be grateful for the company, but knew they would inevitably be looking forward, once again, to the quiet season, once again.
It’s been a while since I entered this challenge and this is the second flash fiction of the day. It’s a weekly challenge and I enjoyed entering it in the past.