The Woman in White

Sitting under a tree I leaned back and closed my eyes. The rough wood creating the perfect backrest and the pillowy grass creeping up my sides tickled my legs. A breeze drifted past, whispering in my ear secrets of days long gone, and bringing with it the smells of springtime. A moan emanated from the branches somewhere above my head, followed by creaking and the babble of leaves. I heard a small snap as one of them fell from its branch and floated down, brushing past my face, to land on the grass somewhere beside me. I smiled. I could feel the rays of sun breaking through the ever changing pattern above, to dance across my torso. Opening my eyes I could see the branches and leaves performing a methodical dance, swinging back and forth, swaying to some unheard melody. I turned my gaze to the scene before me. Rolling hills rose out of the ground, dotted with flowers. It seemed I was sitting under the only tree in miles. How odd. Then something caught my eye, more like someone, in the distance I saw a figure in all white whose long brown hair blew slightly in the wind. Even from this distance I could tell she was extremely beautiful, her dress fluttering in the wind. I started to raise up from where I was sitting when something rustled up in the tree above me and I woke up, in my bed, the image of the woman in white swirling through my mind.