The Wind in the Willows

Freya began walking along the narrow dirt path that led to the open meadow. With every step towards the clearing, her heart filled with anticipation.

“Freya, this way,” a woman’s voice called to her.

It was Freya’s mother, Valla.

Excitement filled her mother’s voice as she called out to Freya. An entire year had passed since the last time they visited. Freya waved and started running as fast as she could.

The high grass rustled against Freya’s legs as she sprinted, her body filled with a rush of adrenaline, eager to reach the clearing where her mother was waiting for her.

“Oh Mom, I’ve missed you so much,” Freya said with tears in her eyes. As she hugged her mother tight, she felt the warmth and comfort of her embrace.

“Guess what?” said Valla. “I have a surprise for you.” Valla took Freya by the hand. She led her towards the gently flowing stream.

Under a massive oak tree, a crisp white blanket held a neatly placed basket. “It’s your birthday, and I packed a picnic.” Valla smiled. “All your favorite treats.”

“Mom, you can’t imagine how much this means to me,” Freya said. “I’ve missed the meadow and our time together. I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

For a moment, Freya closed her eyes. The sun’s rays caressed her face. As she listened to the soft rustling of the willow trees lining the stream, a sense of tranquility washed over her. Fresh, swirling air enveloped her. Inhaling deeply, she could taste its purity as it filled her lungs. It was perfection.

She opened her eyes and took in the meadow’s beauty. The vibrant colors of the wildflowers, the sound of flowing water, birds chirping in the nearby trees. All the wondrous things nature offered. Despite the meadow’s beauty, Freya regarded her mother as the most beautiful presence within it.

“Come sit,” Valla called to Freya. “Let’s enjoy our picnic and catch up on things.”

Freya sat across from her mother, mesmerized by the sight of Valla expertly arranging a feast of sandwiches, fruits, and sweet treats on a dinner plate. The anticipation of tasting the food caused Freya’s mouth to water.

“What have you been up to since we last visited?” Valla asked.

“Working. I’m still in the bio lab. As of now, I have no plans to move.”

“Are you taking care of yourself? A mother worries.”

“No need to worry, mother, I’ll be fine. You know I’m a survivor.”

Valla nodded her agreement. “You have been since you were a little girl. But I can’t help but worry about you, even after thirty-five years.”

“Mom, can you tell me the stories again? The ones about grandma and the old world. I miss hearing about the old times.” Freya put down her plate and stretched out on the blanket.

“Of course, my dear. Which story do you want to hear?”

“All of them.” Freya said.

It wasn’t so much about the stories; she wanted to hear her mother’s voice and relax in the meadow’s sanctity for a few more hours.

Valla started her narrative by recounting the tale of her mother, who played a pivotal role in establishing the initial research facilities following the Final War. Not only was she an impressive woman, but she was also a force to be reckoned with.

Freya closed her eyes and listened intently as her mother told story after story. Her voice, so tender and comforting, made Freya feel safe. She never wanted to leave the meadow.

“Come on Freya, sit up. Let’s go for a walk along the stream.” Valla said.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” said Freya. “Give me a minute. I want to take my shoes off and wade into the water.”

Freya took off her shoes and sank her bare feet into the lush, velvety grass, enjoying its coolness against her skin. She had almost forgotten how incredible it felt to go barefooted. It had been a year since she walked barefoot in the grass.

Freya and her mother strolled arm in arm along the stream, taking in all the sounds and smells of nature. The sweet, succulent smell of wild honeysuckle wafted through the air and intertwined with the fragrance of wildflowers. Birds flittered through the trees, moving from branch to branch. Butterflies, bright and beautiful, fluttered around the meadow. Bees buzzed and danced from flower to flower. There was an entire array of wildlife that called the meadow their home.

The meadow was truly a serene and surreal place. A sky so blue, it would take your breath. White clouds floating in perfect unison. The temperature was always perfect, not too hot, not too cold.

And the willow trees, gently swaying with the breeze. The willows, delicate in appearance, yet so resilient. Strong through powerful winds, able to bend and not break. Freya admired the willow trees.

The afternoon slipped away as Freya and Valla strolled through the meadow, their conversation filled with laughter and bittersweet memories.

As Freya prepared to leave the meadow and say goodbye to her mother for another year, she felt a heavy pang of reluctance, wishing she could remain in this peaceful sanctuary forever. She couldn’t help but wish for a way to stay and escape her other life.

“Mom, you realize how much I hate saying goodbye, but —” Freya felt a burning sensation in her eye as tears welled up.

Valla interrupted. “Then don’t. Just say until next year. We’ll visit again next year.” She smiled and kissed Freya on the cheek. “You have always been the most precious thing in my life. You always will be my world, my sweet girl.”

Despite her efforts to suppress her feelings, tears welled up and rolled down Freya’s face. She looked around the meadow and took a deep breath.

“Mom, you are my reason and my world. I love you.” Freya turned and started back down the dirt path. She stopped and turned back. “Until next year.”

Freya shut her eyes tight and uttered the dreaded words: “ASIM, end simulation ‘The Wind in the Willows’. Authorization code: Freya 7568.”

Freya’s allotted time in the ASIM facility was over. She had to wait another year to visit the meadow and her mother. Even though the memories were remnants pieced together over time, she felt her mother’s presence in all she pursued. Freya missed her mother every day. It had been thirty years since Valla had died. She was one of the last to fall in the Final War. Freya knew her mother had been strong and fought a valiant fight.

Freya pulled on her EV suit, grabbed her gear, and stepped into the airlock. With a whoosh, the door opened and exposed a desolate wasteland. This was Freya’s reality. A life shaped by those who came before her. Her world was a bleak, lifeless place, drained of all beauty, devoid of warmth, and teetering on the brink of extinction.

Dense, toxic clouds filled the sky, casting a gloomy shadow over everything below. The barren land stretched out before her, a stark contrast to the scattered white bio-domes in the sector. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of isolation in this derelict landscape.

The memory of the open meadow, with its vibrant wildflowers and gentle breeze, lingered in her mind, fueling a fire in her heart to keep searching for a solution to restore Mother Earth. Don't worry Mother. We are resilient. We are survivors.

“The last stand for mankind starts here,” Freya softly whispered. “For humanity to survive, we have to work harder and endeavor for change.”