We walked side by side through the orchard, She smiled as we journeyed together, Talking about the past, present, and perhaps the future. It was a memorable day. The trees swayed to the rhythm of the wind, Creating an enchanting atmosphere. It felt like walking through a forest, A true marvel of nature. She knew the names of the various citrus trees, And I wondered how she remembered them all. She shared stories about their origins, Stopping sometimes to show me their unique features. She recounted tales from her childhood, How her father would stroll with her through the orchard in the evenings, Sharing stories of his parents who had cultivated it, And how the labourers sang songs as they worked diligently, Occasionally he brings her siblings along. She spoke of forest spirits, Believing they came out in the tranquillity of the night, Bringing fertility and abundant yields, Summoning the night’s elements to enhance the harvest. Now, as I walk through the orchard alone, I remember every one of her words, inspired by them. One day, I’ll write an ode for this evening, And I’ll tell my own stories as well.