It was a grey day but warm. The oak tree near the bus stop cast a dark shadow. The shadow was still and quiet. It was where she decided to listen. A loud silence was being spoken by the deep voice of the tree’s shelter. It was saying that time stopped there a 1,000 years ago. It was an island untouched by seasons, aging, change. The bark, dirt, leaves were rich and poignant. She saw what had been witnessed and felt the trees nostalgia for life itself. Grey light peaked through the tree’s canopy. The trees memories were not in the rings like they usually were, but in the trees shadow. That’s why she had to take a moment to sit there and soak it in….and miss the bus.