Gift of a Spring

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

She wasn’t nearly the pettiest girl who had ever walked along that ancient stream. Nor was she the smartest, fastest or most pure. Still she was female, and the spirit of this particular stream happened to be male. Male, and very lonely.

For the stream had long ago been mostly pushed underground. Trapped within human made tubes of cast stone, its once slowly meandering course forced into an unnatural straight line. Once dark fluids had been pumped into the stream, defiling its purity, killing what little still lived within it. That all had changed, as human-kinds fortunes rose and fell like tides upon the ocean. Generations ago the factories that had pushed the stream underground had closed. Had been torn down, to be slowly replaced by parkland and housing. Lately though, those neighborhoods had been emptying, though the homes themselves were still of good construction. Had the spirit of the stream known the reason, it would have both laughed, and cried.

With the passing of the factories, and the arrival of parks and homes, trees had again begun growing in certain areas. Known to the humans as woodlets, or miniature woodlands, these small plots had their own effect upon the stream. Their roots, seeking water, broke through the cast stone tunnels seams. Hard cast stone slowly cracked under mother Natures relentless assault, roots captured debris as it tumbled down the tunnel. This blocked the waters path, backing it up. Building pressure until finally it broke free of the tunnel. Once again the stream flowed under the sky, to bask in the warmth of Father Sol, to gleam with a soft mist under the silver gaze of Mother Moon.

Over the last year a small pond had grown in one woodlet, created as natures creatures built their dams, pooling the waters behind it. All this pleased the streams spirit, but it was still alone. Alone, until the girl, actually a young woman, found the stream and started following it.

She was a photographer, not a professional one as yet, still talented above th norm. Though that profession was her plans for the future. After her years of college were over. She had come to document the abandoned homes. Their gardens now gone wild, their paint now slowly flaking away. As she did so, something had drawn her to the acre sized woodland behind that last row of houses. Entering it, she had smelled the water. It had only been a matter of a dozen or so steps to find the water, now bubbling out from the ground where shattered concrete lay hidden under years of growth, to follow it as it cascaded along its new bed to the small pool that freshly returned beavers had created.

As it was a hot day, and she could easily see that the new ponds depth could be measured in feet, not yards, the young woman looked around her. There was no one, and she really was hot. Kneeling she removed a small test kit from her carry-bag, dipping a small glass tube into the water for testing.

He celebrated at her touch, the water spirit. No human female had touched his waters for over a hundred years, maybe more. For it was impossible to keep track of the years while underground, and in the dark. It was not the touch of a maiden, nor was she beautiful. But she was acceptable. Oh yes, she was most acceptable. If only...

Pouring her test sample into a holding jar the girl returned everything to its place. The water was not crystal clear, there was still some small trace of man-made contaminates, but it was more than safe enough to swim in. Again looking about her she carefully undressed, folding her clothing and packing it into her carry bag. Now naked, other than the sandals she had removed from her bag, she placed a heavy stone on her bag. The better to keep some mischievous woodland creature from taking off with it. Then, walking carefully she entered the cold water. For her it was a shivering delight from the days near one hundred degree heat.

For the water spirit it was all he had waited for so long. As he slowly enveloped the human he reminded himself that, unlike fish, they could not breath underwater. Yet the human eased herself further out, until she was floating on her back, encased within his body. It had been so long, and she was so warm, so open. Gently he tasted his visitor.

She felt as though things were caressing her, but ignored the feelings as nothing more than her imagination. For some time she floated in the cold water, until her body began to shiver, warning her that hypothermia was only a short distance away. With some regret she left the water, allowing it to drain from her body. She had brought no towel with her, so it was some time before she began to dress again. It was no matter she thought, the sun was bright and warm, though she was hidden from its worst rays by a towering oak. There were only the most gentle of breezes, which meant that though her body broke out with goose bumps, she was not adversely chilled. Around her were the sounds of nature, not that of civilization. She eventually found herself at peace for the first time in a very long time.

He watched her as she let the air dry her body. Marveling at her hidden beauty. For though her face was plain, her body more than made up for it. With much regret he watched as she dressed, eventually walking back the way she had come. Perhaps she would return,. Or another would visit. He had centuries to wait. But in nine months his present to his visitor would come into this world, and she would be beautiful beyond compare.