Baby Oak: A Micro Story

She’s done it again, captivated the imagination with a descriptive, true-to-life tale, full of warmth and nostalgia, in her latest micro story contribution entitled ‘Baby Oak’.

Fiona M. Jones is a regular contributor to our site and the subject of one of our Mum Life Success Stories (which you can read here). Fiona lives with her husband and 2 teenage sons in Fife, Scotland, where she works, writes & ministers. If you’d like to follow Fiona’s work and journey, simply visit her Facebook page.



 

Baby Oak

In the muddy, brambled place we still call the Hundred-Acre Wood, a tiny oak stands barely waist-height: my babies’ baby tree.

A decade ago my children played in autumn’s treasures of conkers and acorns. They planted some in flower-pots behind the greenhouse. They neglected and forgot them, discovered something still living two years later, and began to love it again with clumsy hands and far too much water. I took pity at last on the poor stunted treelet, still hardly more than a seedling; I gave my children a spade and told them to go and set it free.

They carried the pot and the spade away down the trod path towards the old railway, through the small wooded area that probably equals an acre or two but seemed big to them when first they named it. They dug a hole, not very deep, and planted their tree; and they showed me, later, where to find it.

Half-forgotten once more, Baby Oak hides in among the tall, ragged grasses. It hasn’t yet learned to drop its leaves in autumn. It hasn’t yet claimed its own piece of sky above undergrowth and broken stone wall. But out of sight it slowly spreads its roots and survives.

When I walk through our old Hundred-Acre Wood I turn off the path to look at it again. It will grow up, as other babies do. It will spread gnarling, asymmetric branches and drop acorns of its own—for mice and squirrels to eat, for little children to collect and treasure, for future oaks to grow.

More…

Read more Flash Fiction stories like this one, including Fiona’s stories Mud and Tiny Green Apples.

If you’d like to submit a story for consideration, to be published on this blog, please visit our submissions page for more information.

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MUD: A Micro Story

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We would like to say a huge THANK YOU to Fiona M. Jones of the UK, for her non-fiction micro story entitled ‘Mud’.

You can read the story below or click here to go to a separate page. We hope you enjoy reading this story and don’t forget to check out our many other wonderful stories here.

Fiona Jones is a part-time teacher, a parent and a spare-time writer, with work recently published by Folded Word, Buckshot Magazine and Silver Pen. You can follow Fiona on Twitter or Linkedin


MUD

 

I loved mud.

When I was six or seven, my family lived in a region of heavy, clayey soil. I would scoop up a sticky handful and shape it into a tiny duck or a miniature human face. I made a man out of the dampened dust of the earth; I called him Adam and grieved when he broke.

Other people don’t like mud. I hid my sun-dried models from my mother, and hoped my sisters wouldn’t tell. Grown-ups don’t like dirt.

When I reach forty I have beside me my own two children, aged sixish, sevenish. We climb down into the bed of a stream and collect… mud. We dig from the slippery bank the stickiest mud we can find—yellowish-brown and heavy, almost buttery to the touch but claggy on the hands. Because, for some reason, my children love mud, and, as they always remind me, I grew them and must live with the consequences.

We mash our mud and thin it with water, strain it through nylony fabric, boil it until it reduces to a sticky but workable lump. Mud-splatter around the stove and smudges on the table begin to bother my husband, but I assure him it’s all in a good cause. Natureish. Educationy. That sort of thing.

We form our mud into roughly-shaped but beautiful things: candle-holders, dice and tiny, flat-lidded pots. I heat them in the oven; we paint some and leave others to their natural colour. Every grandparent, aunt or uncle gets a homemade clay piece this Christmas.

And they are delighted. Everyone loves mud.

Thanks

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Get your FREE Ebook

How To Accomplish More In A Fraction Of The Time eCOVER WHITE

The pace and intensity of our lives, both at work and at home, leave many of us feeling like a person riding a frantically galloping horse. Our day-to-day incessant busyness — too much to do and not enough time.

With this ebook you will learn to approach your days in another way, reducing stress and getting results through prioritizing, leveraging and focus!

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