The Well

On the outside of town was a small farm. The property boasted a humble, one-story house along with a rusty red barn. There was a babbling creek filled with tadpoles and crawdads dividing the lower part of land from a pasture on the hilltop. The creek was wide and ankle-deep, affectionately called, The best creek in the whole world! In the summer, it was an ideal respite. The older couple who lived on the farm had two horses and a dog. The horses spent their days in the pasture, grazing and milling about. The dog, an energetic black Labrador with white paws, acted as a tour guide for anyone willing to follow him.

The couple had a granddaughter who loved to visit. She had bright red hair and freckles, her skin forever on the brink of sunburn. Her imagination pulsed like her heart. When her family arrived the summer of her 8th birthday, she unpacked her independence and immediately headed for the creek. Upon arrival, she quickly removed her shoes and socks. To wade in this creek, along with its creatures and rocks, was like finding the door to a dream. Once time was forgotten, she bid an I’ll be back to the little creek. Then, she scooped up her belongings and headed for the pasture. Up she climbed. Being on her own out in nature was more exciting than a slumber party with her best friends! At last, she reached the clearing. The horses had beat her to the top. It was as beautiful as she remembered. A bright green grassy field was the floor beneath a vibrant blue sky. Fluffy white cumulus clouds broke up the sea of blue. It was as though she’d hopped into a painting. She took in the deepest breath her lungs could hold. It smelled like a beautiful summer day! What she would give to leap and be caught by a cloud. Notice everything, she thought. Hear the sound of the wind in the nearby trees, pay attention to the occasional bird song. Smell the air. The verdict was in, there was absolutely no place she’d rather be. With the horses a little ways off, she laid down in the grass and watched as the clouds gracefully drifted by.

A horse exhale pulled her out of the daze she’d been in for who knows how long.
Why hello, Mr Horse! Thank you for sharing your hill with me.

She hopped up and wandered around the hill, singing songs, and occasionally speaking to the sky. She scanned the land and noticed something situated almost exactly opposite to where she stood. I don’t remember that being there. What is it? Skipping and twirling her way there, she assessed this was not newly placed.

How do I not remember this?

A thin border of trees provided a sanctuary of shade on this side of the pasture. Beneath the trees was a circle of old stones, stacked tall, with patches of moss growing over the top. Thankfully, it wasn’t quite her full height, so she was able to peer over the ledge. She supposed it could’ve been used for the horses, and made a mental note to ask Meemaw when back at the house. She put her hands on the side and leaned over. The well smelled damp, and it was too dark to see the bottom. She needed to find a rock to drop into it and then could listen for a splash. But before any more practical thoughts swooped into her mind, childlike wonder kicked in.

Are you a wishing well?

She stared down into the well, listening, hoping for an answer. For a moment, nothing changed. But then, as she was about to look for a stone, a bubble floated up from the dark. It wasn’t a bubble as you and I would know a bubble to be. This bubble was a brilliantly bright shade of pink! Has anyone ever seen a bubble more wonderful than this? She doubted it. She watched the pink bubble travel across the hilltop. Then she turned back to the well. No one would believe what she saw next. More bubbles were floating out of the well. These bubbles were all different colors and sizes. Some about the size of a dime; others were larger, though slightly smaller than the mouth of the well. Each bubble boasted a different color! Pretty soon, the hilltop was drenched in colors. She ran and spun, laughing as she danced through them. The horses carried on their grazing, unbothered by the colorful bubble bath. The bubbles would pop before they reached the edges and didn’t drift high enough to be seen from below. It was as if their magic was just for her. And it had to be magic. She ran back to the well; the bubbles from below were slowing down. As the last bubble floated out of the well, she leaned forward and, with even more delight in her voice than before, she exclaimed, Thank you for the bubbles! I’ll never forget this. The sun was lower than before, which meant it was time to head back. As she walked back down, toward the best creek in the whole world, she thought, It must be a magical well of fun things. She couldn’t wait to go back tomorrow!

She walked into the house and went straight for the kitchen. Meemaw handed her a glass of water and then went back to dipping things in and out of flour.
Welcome back. How was it out there today?
It was incredible. I love coming here Meemaw. It makes me feel like I'm Anne Shirley and this is my Green Gables.
Meemaw laughed. Well, in that case, I'd love some help with the horses tomorrow, if you’re up for it?
Sure!
She said after a big gulp of water.
Meemaw?
Yes dear.
What was that old stone well on the hill used for?
Meemaw stopped dipping things into flour and turned to look at her, wiping her hands on her yellow apron.
I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you, what did you just ask?
She took another sip of water and asked again, not thinking much about it.
The old stone well near the tree side of the hill— was it to water the horses?
Their eyes met. Then Meemaw walked to the doorway of the kitchen and looked around the living room to see if mom and dad were nearby. Coast clear.
She pulled up a chair next to mine and began speaking in a hushed tone.

My dear girl, I'm about to tell you something that even your mother doesn’t know about. But it requires keeping a secret. Do you promise you can do that? You must only share this secret if someone else asks you, just as you did to me. Do you promise?
I promise,
with a nod of her head. Excitement growing inside her.
Good.
Meemaw nodded. The well you saw is magic.
I knew it!
She exclaimed.
Meemaw gently put a finger to her lips as a signal to speak quietly.
And you noticed it, because IT decided to reveal itself to you. Which is a rare and extraordinary thing. I, myself, have only seen it twice.
The little girl’s eyes widened.
Meemaw spoke again, Did you experience something magical up on the hill today?

I did. I was having the most beautiful, perfect day Meemaw. I didn’t think the day could get any better. I noticed the well and asked if it was a wishing well. Nothing happened. So I started to leave and look for stones. The next thing I knew, bubbles of all different sizes and colors started floating out of it. It was so fun! And then it stopped and all the bubbles were gone. I wasn’t sad though. It had just been for me. How lucky was I! Oh Meemaw, I'm so glad it was real!

Meemaw smiled. Me too, granddaughter.
Meemaw, what magic were you offered the two times the well appeared for you?
Meemaw took the glass and refilled it; then poured herself some water, before sitting back down at the table.

The first time I saw the well was when your mother was a little girl. One day, I was extra tired and just needed some alone time. Your Peepaw took your mom, who was around your age at the time, to get ice cream so I could have a little time to myself. After they left, I climbed up the hill to be closer to the sky. It always made me feel better. When I got to the top, that well was smack dab in the middle of the pasture! I thought I was losing my mind. There’d never been a well there before. I walked over to it and peered down into the darkness. Hello? I asked. Thankfully, I didn’t hear anything. I sat on the side of it, closed my eyes, and listened to the quiet. I was so tired. Then, I felt a breeze on my face and opened my eyes. Do you know what I saw?

What?
She was on the edge of her seat, prepared to believe whatever Meemaw said.

I was under the covers in the softest, biggest, most comfortable bed I’d ever seen. Outside! Right there on the hilltop—can you believe it?
Meemaw laughed.
Something told me that whatever this was would either wake me up when it was time to go or that someone would come looking for me. So, I went to sleep. And when I woke up, the bed was gone, and I was sitting on the side of the well again. I walked down to the house, rested and happy. Peepaw and your mom returned shortly after.

Did you tell them about the bed?
No, I didn’t. It felt like a secret I needed to keep for myself.
Wow,
she sighed. The little girl and her grandmother sat together in silence. A moment later she asked, What about the second time?

Right then, her mom walked into the kitchen. What trouble are you two getting in? Tell me what I missed!
Meemaw answered, Oh nothing dear, she was just about to tell me about her day.
As her daughter’s back was to her, Meemaw looked at her granddaughter, winked, and put her finger to her mouth. The secrets of the magic well were safe, for now.

What to do

Yesterday, someone asked what made me decide to doodle imaginary creatures. My answer seemed to catch her off guard. I draw creatures I'd like to see in the world. Not one person has ever asked me that question. I didn’t hesitate or stumble to answer. The answer came as if i'd been asked 100 times. Plus, it’s fun. It’s strengthening my imagination too. Lately, I’ve been having trouble writing. The blocks are either too wide, too tall, or too heavy to get beyond. So, I doodle and hope for tomorrow. And if you see any of these kooks in your neck of the woods, please make sure to say hello!

Eyes to See

For the last 3.5 years, I’ve had hundreds maybe thousands of people read my writings. I’m not published or anything (yet), but who knows! Sometimes you stumble into dreams coming true. People ask me how I come up with what I write—if they only knew how many random things exist in my brain! For instance, the other day I had a squirrel hold eye contact with me for a very long time. I’m talking minutes. And as we all assume, squirrels have ADHD. This squirrel proved otherwise, reminding me that sometimes even predictability can be unpredictable. I’ve seen some breathtaking wintry sunsets over the last few weeks. A sky streaked with fiery oranges and deep blues commanded a “wow” from my very lips. On a recent visit to NYC, I took the subway (G train) to Greenpoint, Brooklyn. There was a gentlemen, presumably homeless, who entered the car mid-ride. His goal was clear: Ask the passengers for money and food. If you’ve ever lived in New York City, you learn the how to’s (and power) of eye contact. This man seemed kind in his requests and had some friendly banter to anyone willing to look his way. I held my kindle, reading but also listening to him as he walked past my bench. Someone offered him an apple which he took, genuinely grateful. This made me smile, though my eyes were still on my kindle. Then I heard him say with a friendly, clear tone, “I see you, Red.” I’m guessing this is a common experience for those of us with red hair. It’s happened to me so often, it’s equal to someone saying my name. I pop my head up his direction and make eye contact. He has a smile on his face and says, “I love your hair.” Oh man, sometimes humanity really does sparkle. I said, “Thank you" and chuckled quietly, aware of half the train car involved in the exchange. He then proceeded to share that he has a kid with red hair. “Can you believe it!?” He exclaimed, his own hair a dark brown with a bit of gray. He laughed in the tee-he-he kind of way as the train pulled in the next station. He left and my eyes went back to my kindle. If I may humbly say, it was not the first time a homeless person has offered me a hair compliment. I pray it’s not the last. I can keep going. I saw a pigeon eating a slice of pizza. Santa told me that he used to be a redhead. There was a rodeo in Georgia that I went to and at one point, with our phone flashlights engaged, they turned off all the lights and we sang, Don’t Stop Believing. I kid you not, this is my life. I could write story upon story about each one of these things. And this is from real experiences. Do you even want to know what my imagination is up to? I can tell you this, it typically involves nature speaking, only to me, in audible voices.

I’m not working right now so I hope to write and dream more. I drew a lion. I think because I've had several people mention the word courage to describe me. It’s a big word that I don’t attribute to myself, but I'm trying.

Merry Christmas and write soon,
Sarah