Dear Rosanna,
How is my favorite little sister? Doing well I hope? I know it is harvest time so I am sure mother is keeping you busy at the threshing mat. Try not to over work yourself. I do not like the idea of you working too hard. Then again father would not allow his little princess to get too overheated.
I still miss the fields during this time of year. Their golden stalks moving with the wind like a giant cloth, the smell of the freshly cut stems, I even miss the sound of our old donkey braying as he helped pull the fresh bales of hay off to the barn. Silly thing never listend to me, always just stood there staring at me like I was a rat or something. Yet he would always listen to his little mistress. Don't think I didn't hear you giggling behind me.
I am writing this letter, not only to keep my promise of writing you every week, but to tell you of a facinating ornament I discovered. It is most peculiar yet very beautiful; reminds me a lot of you. heh heh! I know you will hit my arm the next time I come to visit for that.
I found the item just a few days ago while I was taking a quiet walk in the city's main garden. I have wrote to you of it before. It contains a great variety of trees and flowers, lined with shrubs and bushes to give it definition. Over all a very well cared for arbor in my opinion. But now that the weather has grown colder much of the vegation has begun to enter their time of slumber. Of course some of the trees decided to give one last grand show before their long sleep. Beautiful flames of red, yellow, and orange wash across the garden like a painter's brush across a canvas.
It was quite relaxing as there were few people in the mark that brisk morning. All the sounds of nature playing its own natural symphony of rustling leaves, blowing wind, and the swaying of branchs. It was all so lovely. As always I was carrying my violin case, I never miss an opportunity to practice when inspired. Such a scene did inspire me, the last hurrah of nature before it's wintery blanket fell.
I took out my violin, made sure it was tuned properly, and began to play. I felt at peace with nature as I played, the leaves swirling around my feet like ball room dancers. The trees swayed in the wind, almost sounding like applause in a grand theater. A few people stopped what they were doing to listen but none approached me; I suppose everyone enjoys the sounds of a good instrument even in the most unusual of places.
As the last note echoed across the garden my eyes opened and spied something shiny winking in the early morning sun. I suppose I had not noticed it at first as it was nestled in the roots of a great maple tree. My eyes had been gazing upward, not down. Placing my violin away I walked to the object to find it was a beautifuly shaped bottle. It was not so large as to be a watcher pitcher nor was it so small as to be a vial. I would say it was about five inches in diameter with a long stem corked with a similar glass stopper. Inside the bottle was a wonderous sight! A small sprig of the maple tree with beautiful red leaves.
It resembed a preservists jar only I do not know of many who would use such an ornate container. Also how would one get such a large sprig inside the bottle with such a slender neck? I looked around, thinking perhaps the collector was near by gathering other remnmants of the fall season but there were only a few elderly couples walking and a few others like myself enjoying the arbor's display. No one was near and the rest of the area looked undisturbed. I wondered why someone would leave such a lovely piece here. The trees cast their red shade over me as the sun gained height, giving the bottle a crimson appearance.
As no one seemed to lay claim to the item I decided to bring it home. It now resides on the small table near the window as it gives off the most lovely light when hit with the sun. The leaves have not dried or withered since that day, leading me to believe they are well perserved inside the air tight bottle. I say air tight as I have not been able to remove the glass cork to have a better look. No it is not because I have grown weak from lack of honest farm work. I get plenty of arm exercise with my music thank you.
Perhpas when you come visit next month with mother and father I will show it to you. I look forward to seeing my favorite sister at my first winter concert here in Amies. Please give mother my love and tell father I have found a shop that sells that strange brand of tobacco he enjoys smoking. I have bought him a tin of it.
I must go now, it is time to practice my piece. All my love to you.
Your dearest brother,
Odell Barnes.
How is my favorite little sister? Doing well I hope? I know it is harvest time so I am sure mother is keeping you busy at the threshing mat. Try not to over work yourself. I do not like the idea of you working too hard. Then again father would not allow his little princess to get too overheated.
I still miss the fields during this time of year. Their golden stalks moving with the wind like a giant cloth, the smell of the freshly cut stems, I even miss the sound of our old donkey braying as he helped pull the fresh bales of hay off to the barn. Silly thing never listend to me, always just stood there staring at me like I was a rat or something. Yet he would always listen to his little mistress. Don't think I didn't hear you giggling behind me.
I am writing this letter, not only to keep my promise of writing you every week, but to tell you of a facinating ornament I discovered. It is most peculiar yet very beautiful; reminds me a lot of you. heh heh! I know you will hit my arm the next time I come to visit for that.
I found the item just a few days ago while I was taking a quiet walk in the city's main garden. I have wrote to you of it before. It contains a great variety of trees and flowers, lined with shrubs and bushes to give it definition. Over all a very well cared for arbor in my opinion. But now that the weather has grown colder much of the vegation has begun to enter their time of slumber. Of course some of the trees decided to give one last grand show before their long sleep. Beautiful flames of red, yellow, and orange wash across the garden like a painter's brush across a canvas.
It was quite relaxing as there were few people in the mark that brisk morning. All the sounds of nature playing its own natural symphony of rustling leaves, blowing wind, and the swaying of branchs. It was all so lovely. As always I was carrying my violin case, I never miss an opportunity to practice when inspired. Such a scene did inspire me, the last hurrah of nature before it's wintery blanket fell.
I took out my violin, made sure it was tuned properly, and began to play. I felt at peace with nature as I played, the leaves swirling around my feet like ball room dancers. The trees swayed in the wind, almost sounding like applause in a grand theater. A few people stopped what they were doing to listen but none approached me; I suppose everyone enjoys the sounds of a good instrument even in the most unusual of places.
As the last note echoed across the garden my eyes opened and spied something shiny winking in the early morning sun. I suppose I had not noticed it at first as it was nestled in the roots of a great maple tree. My eyes had been gazing upward, not down. Placing my violin away I walked to the object to find it was a beautifuly shaped bottle. It was not so large as to be a watcher pitcher nor was it so small as to be a vial. I would say it was about five inches in diameter with a long stem corked with a similar glass stopper. Inside the bottle was a wonderous sight! A small sprig of the maple tree with beautiful red leaves.
It resembed a preservists jar only I do not know of many who would use such an ornate container. Also how would one get such a large sprig inside the bottle with such a slender neck? I looked around, thinking perhaps the collector was near by gathering other remnmants of the fall season but there were only a few elderly couples walking and a few others like myself enjoying the arbor's display. No one was near and the rest of the area looked undisturbed. I wondered why someone would leave such a lovely piece here. The trees cast their red shade over me as the sun gained height, giving the bottle a crimson appearance.
As no one seemed to lay claim to the item I decided to bring it home. It now resides on the small table near the window as it gives off the most lovely light when hit with the sun. The leaves have not dried or withered since that day, leading me to believe they are well perserved inside the air tight bottle. I say air tight as I have not been able to remove the glass cork to have a better look. No it is not because I have grown weak from lack of honest farm work. I get plenty of arm exercise with my music thank you.
Perhpas when you come visit next month with mother and father I will show it to you. I look forward to seeing my favorite sister at my first winter concert here in Amies. Please give mother my love and tell father I have found a shop that sells that strange brand of tobacco he enjoys smoking. I have bought him a tin of it.
I must go now, it is time to practice my piece. All my love to you.
Your dearest brother,
Odell Barnes.
