She sat quietly on the cool concrete bench; her hands folded on her lap. The snow fell playfully, grazing the lenses of her glasses. The apple tree branches, freshly dusted with snow, stood protectively to the front and side. The air was cool.
A cardinal pair lit upon a branch. The male so boisterously red was magnificent, but she’d often thought that the female, so demure in color, was quite unique. She squinted at them; the sun shining directly upon her face. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and lost herself in the stillness of the moment.
She felt his presence before she heard him sauntering down the path, old yellow broom balancing his steps. She laughed to herself; usually it was she who gazed out of the windows waiting to catch a glimpse of him. He sat down next to her. “Here you are,” he said, and with a chuckle added, “this time, I couldn’t find you.” She looked at him, smiled, and placed her hand, clothed in her mother’s old tattered glove, upon his leg.
After a few quiet moments, she nestled into the warmth of his side and said with a sassy smirk, “We’re quite a pair.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “This is true,” he said turning his gaze toward her. She looked at him and he at her; their eyes telling the love story of so many years shared.
The two sat on the cool concrete bench together in the quiet of the sunshine, gazing out upon the snow-covered field. The old yellow broom and the tattered gloves told stories of their own as they sat, while the cardinal pair sang a sweet subtle melody.
Pretty Mama Cares 