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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2276449-The-Summer-Traveler
by Alexi
Rated: E · Prose · Folklore · #2276449
The Summer Traveler arrives.
The Summer Traveler arrived along the red earthen road, cloaked in emerald green. A wide brimmed straw hat tied down with a scarf, to defeat the wind, upon his head.
He never spoke nor approached, yet the children gathered to carefully watch the stranger by the riverside.

His long cotton pants were dusty and speckled with reddened clay, but never did a mother arrive to scold him. He slept in the field under the large old oak, a worn leather book, with its title long rubbed off, under his temple and a moth eaten cloak wrapped around his body.
Some said he must be fae, spirit, or angel for the fireflies illuminated his face and wildflowers blossomed at his feet. The crows would flock to peck at his clothes eliciting a shriek, but never did he utter a word.

The town’s children would play pretend and say they too were like the traveler, sleeping under the stars. Then their mothers would call them home for supper and their pondering would come to an end as they dispersed to wash up.
During the night, the Traveler would take up his book and cloak in hand, and continue on his way, until summer once again crept upon the meadows and creeks.

With a single look of some unrecognizable emotion, he departs.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2276449-The-Summer-Traveler