A grunt, then a huff, were the only sounds that she made with her mouth as she walked along. Marching over the landscape was not particularly easy at the moment. Trees snagged at her clothing, burs caught on anything ankle height, and she was also pushing uphill. The sounds she made not with her mouth was the swish of her pant legs together, the brushing of her sleeves, and the occasional fwap her clothing made when she failed to account a branch and it wacked against her as she moved past it.

Up ahead was her goal. On the hill was a little wild plum tree and a crabapple. It almost looked purposely planted, and each time she drew near, as she did today, she wondered about the former planter. There were hardly any other fruit trees, besides the ever present wild cherry, and just the way that the grass under them was almost without any of harsh grass that was a constant, and the way they stood a true seven feet apart from each other, made it seem purposeful. So did the fact that they stood in a clearing.

She walked into clearing, and paused, as she had in the last five years. Once she had looked around the clearing, she walked forward to inspect the trees. The plums were little green things, though she knew that they would ripen within a month. The apples would take a little longer, but because they were not full sized, they would also be ripe within two months, if not less. A bit of fungus showed on one branch, so she took the powder and once again treated it and the branches closest.

"I am taking the powder here, antifungal powder, and applying it to the branches closest and the fungus, because I know you used to take care of this place. I don't know why you moved away, but it shows you put thought into this. May I harvest the plums and apples when they're ripe? I guess you have time to answer."

She was silent for a few minutes, standing still and letting the wild creatures around her start ignoring her again. The bird chirps and whistles, the beetles and other insects buzzing, and the tree frogs started humming again, giving her a quiet hum of sounds that made her relax. It sounded like home.

She sighed a little and sat down in the grass.

"How about I tell you a story?

"There is this boy that I grew up with on the north side of town, or did he grow up with us? I don't know. Anyway, this boy came over to play with us in our yard, and we liked playing with him. We took him to the park, picnics sometimes, but mostly around our yard.

"He came over one day, and we went to the beach just outside of town, with his parent's permission. We played tag in the trees and the sand, because the trees were pretty spaced out, but still provided covering. We built sand castles and splashed in the water. We had a picnic, even. I didn't know he didn't know about poison ivy, so we had to tell him. I really don't like being itchy so long, and I am sensitive because of a large rash I got once, so I guess I really don't like the plant. It's really pretty though. We had a good time, and then we drove home.

"It's one of my favorite younger memories. I don't remember much of what happened after it though. I do remember his family moving, though I remember that he was there with his grandmother. Maybe he stayed to help a little bit. I don't know. His name was Paul. He did move into this area after I did. I know because we met up a couple of times, and he went to the same school as I did. He has usually sent me a letter every year. He didn't this year. Anyway, I don't really know why he didn't send a letter this year, but he didn't.

"Thanks for listening."

With that, the girl got up and left the way she came. The brief amount of quiet that happened as she left picked back up in a few minutes.

A pair of eyes left soon after.