The Singing Trees

by Boo Walker

It was funny how she thought in years now. That was something that she’d been doing since her fifties. Everything that had happened in her life had a time stamp to it.

You just need to find exactly what you’re trying to say and then say it loud.”

“The point is that God will help lift you up, but you have to take the first step.”

She painted another stroke and then another, feeling like a ship with plenty of wind in her sails but no compass on the deck.

The creamy sand was a stick of butter melting into the water, and she couldn’t imagine that all those shades of blue even existed. For a Mainer who’d barely crossed borders, this was proof enough that God had His hands all over the world, mixing in colors even the great masters could never emulate.