text: He marched up the hill. Its low slope provided little challenge to his progress. The grass, as it waved in the soft breeze, did seem to tug at his feet. He placed his feet carefully to avoid tripping. It wouldn't do to drop his cargo. A large potted plant, a tree, was grasped firmly in one hand. It was fairly heavy. He had to stop several times on the way up the hill in order to rest. Now, as he neared the top, he pushed onward. He did swap the tree from his right hand to his left. Taking only a brief moment to set down the shovel so he could do the change. The fatigue in his right hand easing as he picked up the digging tool. When he was sure he had everything grasped firmly, he set off. The breeze was warm, and carried the scent of grass. It was familiar to him, he had been on this hill many times. As he reached the top, his eyes were drawn to a medium sized oak tree. It stood slightly off center at the top of the rise, growing alone in the middle of the field. "Hi Mom," he whispered, the words vanishing under the rustling of grass. *No crying*, he promised himself. He walked over and set the sapling down. It seemed fitting to have it rest against the larger tree, at least for the moment. He rested his now free hand on the truck. It had grown thicker since it had been planted. He smiled. It was a sad one, but also accepting. He turned and placed his back against the bark. Wordlessly he started pacing away from the tree towards the center of the hill, then past it. He had researched how far he needed to go; how many steps it would be. He wanted the branches to just touch when both trees were fully grown. He stopped once he reached the proper amount of steps. He looked back, checking if he was in line. With that he thrust the shovel into the soil. Memories came back to him as he dug. Five years ago, he and his father had come up here. The hill had been empty then. They had dug their own hole, through tears, to plant the oak. He was alone this time to do the job. With the hole dug, the tree went into the ground smoothly. This was not the first time he had planted one. He covered the roots loose dirt and packed it down. He had a jug of water in his car at the field edge. He would water it today, and every day until it could survive on its own. Shouldering the shovel he looked over his work. The two oaks seemed so far apart, but he knew they would grow together over time. "Bye Dad," He said into the wind as he started down to get the water. He couldn't keep the promise he had made to himself as he went.