The Orchard

Jasmine guided her car to the edge of the gravel road and set the parking brake. She was in the middle of nowhere, but after 6 straight hours behind the wheel she needed to stretch her legs.

She stepped out of the car into the crisp autumn day and immediately moved into an Upward Salute, stretching her tight muscles and letting the sunlight wash over her body. She held the pose for a long minute, breathing deeply and clearing her mind. The air smelled fresh and clean, but there was an underlying fruity, slightly fermented smell that caught her attention. Looking around, Jasmine spotted a thicket of trees in the distance and decided to check it out.

She made her way across a meadow towards the trees, driven on by the beauty of their fall foliage. There were no houses or other signs of human life for miles, but the area was abuzz with flies, bees, butterflies, and other small insects. Birds circled overhead calling out their indignation at her invasion, and their cries sent small creatures scurrying away through the undergrowth.

Although the breeze was cool, Jasmine was grateful to leave the sunlight for the shade as she reached the grove. Once her eyes adjusted to the change she could make out the formerly orderly rows of trees that were once an apple orchard, their trunks now covered in vines and moss. The area was overgrown with other types of trees, too, she spotted several Aspen and Oak.

The longer Jasmine stood among the branches, heavy with unharvested apples, the more she felt at peace. She was trying to decide how smart it would be to climb a tree for a snack when she noticed something moving in the shadows up ahead. Thankful for her long jeans and boots, she pushed further into the tangled undergrowth and found a rope swing with a wooden seat.

Although the neglected orchard seemed to be turning to forest, the area around the swing was clear of brush and the ropes looked new and strong. She sat in the seat carefully, testing her weight to be sure it wouldn’t give out beneath her, and immediately felt an overwhelming sensation of joy. She kicked her feet, and soon she was flying through the air, laughing like a child at recess. Higher she went, and higher, until there was nothing else left to do--just before the swing was at its very highest, she let go of the ropes and propelled forward through the air.

As she hurdled towards a bramble of thorny bushes, time seemed to slow down. What had she been thinking?! It was as if she were another person on the swing, and now she would pay a painful price for losing her abandon.

Then, she landed-not with a crash into thorns tearing at her skin, but softly into a large mound of loose hay. She heard shrieks of laughter and lifted her head to see three small children jumping and clapping. “My turn, Mommy! My turn!” the oldest one called.

Stunned, Jasmine looked around and saw it was spring. Fragrant pink and white blooms covered the now well-tended apple trees, and the bright green grasses of the meadow were sprinkled with flower buds instead of the riot of colorful, full blooms that were there just a moment before.

She heard a man say, “I swear, you’re worse than the kids with that swing.” He was standing in front of the sun and she couldn’t see who he was, but somehow his friendly voice sounded like home.

Her confusion must have shown on her face because he asked, “Are you okay? Did you lose your wind when you landed?” He knelt down and smiled, and suddenly she was looking into the soft brown eyes of the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

“I’m alright,” she managed. “I just need a minute.”

“Ok, I’ll herd the little munchkins inside. You take your time,” he said, that melting smile still on his face. “It’s time for lunch. Race you to the house!” The four of them sprinted away, laughing, and went inside a house that Jasmine hadn't noticed before–a house that definitely wasn’t there when she got on the swing.

“What the heck?” she thought. “Is this my life? Did I bump my head when I jumped from the swing?”

But…no! Jasmine saw a woman come around the corner from the far side of the house carrying a basket of vegetables. Her hair was shorter, she looked about 10 years older and 20 pounds heavier, but that woman was definitely Jasmine. The older woman entered the house and Jasmine could hear her call out to the kids to go wash their hands.

Jasmine looked toward the swing, puzzled. She walked over and sat in the seat again, but it felt the same as it had before. Then she had a thought, and turned in the seat so she was facing the other direction. She began to swing again, higher and higher, until it was again time to let go.

This time when she landed, it was on hard ground. Her hands and knees stung from the impact and it took a moment to catch her breath, but as she looked around it was once again autumn, the house was gone, and she was alone in a beautiful abandoned orchard that was being reclaimed by nature.

Jasmine hurried back to her car, got in, and drove away quickly. Breathing deeply, she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Did she imagine the whole thing? That must be the answer, but the man's tanned face, the crow's feet just staring around his eyes, the beautiful children…they felt like a memory, not a dream.

A car honking behind her pulled her out of her reverie. She realized she was on the edge of a town and driving very slowly. She sped up and gave the other car a sheepish wave. Spotting a cafe, she decided to have a cup of tea and try to make sense of her day.

Still in a daze, she parked and walked into the restaurant. As she stepped through the door, she ran straight into another person.

“Oh!” she gasped, “I’m so…” The apology died on her lips as she looked up into the soft brown eyes of the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life.