A single clear tune rose amid the crimson cast hues of the trees, weaving its way through the reds and yellows of the leaves.
A path opened up, surrounded by the scenery of trees overcast with flaming blossoms.
Among the young lovers taking a stroll and the old couples sitting on the scattered wooden benches enjoying the view, was a young man walking alone.
He walked slowly with purpose, but his eyes wandered, taking in the beauty of the landscape.
The melody being played was soothing, almost calming.
The man walked along with it, as though it were trying to pull him away from the crowd, telling him something only he could understand.
He followed it.
Through the winding path, away from the bustling activity of the park, growing louder with every step. Leading him to an area secluded from prying eyes by the growth of bushes laden thick with leaves of autumn.
A place he knew only too well.
After all, it was a secret haven which belonged only to both of them.
Him and the owner of the music.
The melody cut through the air, singing in waves across the sky in a song of despair and hope.
The clapping at the end of the score brought the player back to her senses as she turned, beaming at her audience.
"You're probably wishing it was a bigger crowd weren't you?" the man smiled, stepping forward. "Sorry to disappoint you."
"You're the last person I'd be disappointed with." she teased back lightly, setting her violin down from its position.
The man walked to the stone bench next to her, overlooking the lake and sat down. Waiting for her, as she packed her scores and put her violin back in its case, before she too came and sat down beside him.
No words were exchanged as they sat together in silence, looking out at the lake as the rays of sunset bathed the world in its crimson glow, making the already fiery landscape intense in its shades.
Like the sound of her violin.
Deep and intense, yet subtly enveloping everything in its essence, caressing it with its warmth.
A mirror of the person who plays it.
"I got an offer" she started, breaking the silence.
"Really?" the man turned to her, "Not Africa again, I presume"
"Not Africa" she laughed, though immediately regaining the serious expression she had.
"It's an offer from the London Royal Orchestra" she continued, pausing for a moment, "Starting November I'll be playing as a part of the Orchestra."
"I doubt they'll find anyone better than you" the man said, "I for one have never seen anyone play better in my life."
"That's not the point." she cut him off.
She turned back to the lake, as if she could find the right words to express herself off its shimmering surface.
The man took a deep breath, and waited to hear the words he knew were coming.
"I won't be coming back" she finally said.
The words sunk in slowly. His heart ached with the sadness of an ended love, yet was calm and peaceful as if the change was natural.
Things had changed between them, and there's a difference between giving up and knowing when you've had enough.
After all, the woman before him, as beautiful and determined as she was, wasn't the same woman he fell in love with anymore.
He too in all possibility wasn't the same man she fell in love with either.
Despite that, he was still the same person who stumbled across a pretty short haired girl practicing the violin in the park long ago.
The same person, who then went to the park almost every day after that just to get a glimpse of her.
The same person, who made friends with her and applauded even when she screeched and slipped while playing.
The same person, who could contain his feelings no longer and kissed her the night she won her first recital.
The same person who's heart beat faster every time he heard the sound of her violin.
Her hair was longer now.
She was no longer the girl who cried buckets of tears when she mistakenly screeched the violin at an important audition.
Time had a way of changing things.
She was the same yet she had changed.
He turned to her "Would you play for me once more."
She smiled at him, then getting up and taking out her violin, she played the same score she had been practicing the day he had stumbled across her in the park.
She played until the last rays of sunset soared through the sky, enveloping everything in lament of the violin's sound, reflecting off the glittering surface of the lake.
Even after she had gone, all that remained in the endless blur of deepening red, was the nostalgic sound of the violin resounding deep within his heart.
.Autumn's Song ~
YOU ARE READING
The Seasons of Love. ~~ ~A series of short stories of love for every season.~ Winter's story - Red Snow Autumn's story - Autumn's Song Coming Soon - Summer's story.