[TWWM] Sail's Origin Story

A soft breeze swept over the hills, creating waves in the grass that rippled and trailed towards the horizon. A man knelt on the ground, cupping the dirt gently in his hands.
“Place the next one in now dear.”
The woman next to him startled, “Oh goodness! I was daydreaming again.”
He smiled, creases forming in his rugged face. She knelt next to him carefully, her dress billowing up around her. With great care she lifted a tiny green sprout from a basket, and nestled it into the hole he’d dug.
“I almost can’t stand to wait honey, think of how beautiful it will be!
He kept grinning, her excitement made his heart swell.
“It will be years still, but these hills will be our future now.”
Packing the dirt gingerly around the sprout, she smiled too.
“Mama! Papa!”
“We’re up here! On the Hill!”
A young boy scampered up the hill towards them, covered in dirt and grinning ear to ear.
“I found a bunch of baby bunnies! They ran off though, so i found THESE!”
He shoved a fistfull of worms towards his parents, giggling wildly.
“Oh my!” his mother said, scooping him into her lap. “These wormies can help our apples grow too!”
She guided his hand and he released them, a wriggling pile, next to the sprout. He became serious suddenly, and stared hard at the worms as they nosed their way back under the dirt. The wind swirled a bit, touseling his hair.
“These sprouts will be our orchard right?” he mumbled, staring off across the acres. Rows and rows of tiny green sprouts, fluttering in the breeze, nestled neatly between the blades of grass.
“Yes, our orchard of dreams.” the woman sighed and leaned her head against the child’s. The sun was close to setting and the shadows from the tiny sprouts grew longer against the field.

The three of them became lost in time for a few moments, everything around them was perfect. The warmth of the sun creeping away from them, the soft breeze, and the tidy rows of apple plants.  The family climbed to their feet and dusted off, gathering their tools and headed towards the little wooden cabin on the edge of the field. They had immigrated from Germany only weeks ago, and their dream to create a beautiful apple orchard on their own land here was taking shape. Happiness swelled within them as they trudged down the hill, aching from a hard day of work. The hill stood alone, a beacon in the center of their property. A tiny apple sprout perched atop its highest point shivered in the wind, small but strong.

--

The months past quickly, time seemed to soar past them as they worked from dawn till dusk, and even into the night. Planting the sprouts, clearing weeds, watering them on dry days. Day after day of hefting a bucket to each of the little seedlings. The boy beamed as he ladled water around each one, eager to help his parents. Back and forth throughout the rows, they edged their way around the hill, and finally towards its top. The climb was worth the view, as they could see their entire orchard from here. This seemed to be the place they always ended up at the end of the day. Together, resting after the work, and talking about their day.
The sprout stood silently, focused on growing, absorbing everything around himself.

--

The boy became fond of that spot atop the hill, and gave special attention to his little sprout. He’d bring it worms or soft dirt, piling it carefully around its base. He’d giggle as the worms vied for room, racing each other to dig beneath the soil.
Giggles resonated against the sprout.

--

Summer came and went, and the sprout had become a sapling. Thin and wiry it reached towards the sky, desperate to grow. The land around the orchard shifted into multi colors as the surrounding trees burst into oranges and yellows. The family shared a picnic atop the hill, laughs and stories filled the air around the sapling. It’s growth had slowed as the chill came. It rested now, cheerfully absorbing the love that the family shared.

--

The winter swept in with shocking cold, and the little sapling shuddered atop that hill. His leaves bent low from the weight of the snow and ice, and every night seemed to drag on for years. The sunrise however brought joy to the sapling, and its warm rays melted ice and snow. Warmth spread through his leaves and stems, and he curled his leaves towards the sun, reaching, begging for a bit more heat. Winter was cruel however, and lasted for months. When spring finally came, the sapling watched with sadness as the man and his wife sadly dug up several wilted saplings from the rows. New seedlings replaced them in the little brown holes, and new water and worms poured in. The sapling was strong however, and the man pet his leaves carefully.
“Our little hill sapling didn’t lose a single leaf through the winter.” he crooned, placing his hands on his hips in pride. The boy mimicked him, claiming that it was the extra worms. The woman smiled and watered him too. “Its almost summer time, lets head in for the night.”
As they trudged away, the little sapling beamed with pride.

--

The years came and went, the boy and tree growing together. The sapling’s branches sprawled outwards, and his trunk grew strong and rough. The boy often sat beneath his shade now, doing his homework or napping. The tree felt love and strength from the boy, and the boy found comfort in the tree.

--

Apples came finally one spring, after fifteen years of waiting. The man hugged his wife, who had tears in her eyes. The boy wasn’t a boy anymore, and he cheered and touched the tiny red beads upon his branches. “We did it, we have a real orchard!” He clapped and leapt into the air. After years of hard work and patience, their dream had come true.
The apples were small and strangely shaped, but the tree tried as hard as he could. The man smiled and said “Next year.”

--

That winter felt longer than ever. The tree felt full of energy, building up inside. Felt like the beginning of something amazing and impatience rattled through his branches with the winter chill. Soon.

--

Apple weight pulled hard on his branches this year, and he struggled with enthusiasm to hold them. He heard trees around him groan and crack, losing branches in wind storms and under the weight of the fruit. Hard work and determination had been ingrained in him, even if he didn’t realize it yet. The man and his wife cheered again, hugging and smiling.

A huge celebration ensued that fall, the family led hundreds of eager onlookers through the rows of trees. Eager children ran through the orchard, screaming with laughter as they played tag. Some children collapsed against his trunk, panting and laughing hard. Pride swelled in his core as they chattered excitedly about how large his canopy was, and the taller children plucked his apples to share. For months after that the orchard bustled with excitement. People came and went, and the evenings were filled with song and dance around a fire. The man worked with neighbors to add a larger kitchen to the cabin, he’d spoken with the woman about it under the tree one night. The smell of cider and wassail filled the air soon, the man was excited to share a recipe from his homeland with the people here. The wassail was a huge hit, he taught others to make it and returned night after night to pick more apples to juice, a smile always across his face. By his side almost each night was his son, whistling or singing, his arms growing as strong as his father’s from years of work. Late into the night they worked, growing weary but joyful in their task.

Their dream had come to fruition, and joy permeated every fiber of the tree’s soul. He reveled in being a part of their dream, and every sunrise brought a new wave of bliss to the orchard.