A distant thunder echoed from beyond the hills. Would a storm disrupt the tranquility of this place – this oasis of calmness nestled in the foothills far from the day to day concerns of the human realm?
The growing breeze caused the trees to curtly nod their acquiescence to the sky’s demands. As they did, showers of cherry blossom cascaded into the stream where they danced and swirled amid the whirlpools and eddies before being swept underwater at a little falls, only to reemerge in a pool carved by flow.
But even this sacrifice of pink blossom was no waste, for as the rules of nature dictated, they settled in the inanition of the basin, a treasure chest of colour, where the stream stored riches.
A louder crack of thunder drew Helen’s gaze from the petals in to pool, and and she looked up at the darkening sky. Taking one last glance at the bowing cherry trees, she hurrying home to her secluded cottage.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered to the trees and stream. “I promise to visit again tomorrow, and I will bring cake.”
Curt Inanition– lack of vigor; lethargy. Cherry Blossom Waste Nod Underwater Thunder Rules Whirlpools Chest Carve One