Read by Michael Flamel

As I stepped off the plane in Seattle, the misty air wrapped around me like a familiar embrace. The scent of damp earth mingled with the sharp tang of salt from the nearby Puget Sound. It felt good to be here, amidst the lush greenery and rain-soaked soil, ready to begin my journey.

I had rented a cozy little apartment in the heart of the city, surrounded by towering evergreens and quirky urban gardens. It was in one of these gardens that I first met Sam, an older gentleman with a twinkle in his eye and a trowel in his hand.

Digging in the community gardens one day, I noticed Sam watching me from a nearby bench. His weathered face crinkled into a smile as I glanced over, and I found myself drawn to him. After finishing my task, I wandered over and sat down beside him.

“Beautiful day for gardening, isn’t it?” I remarked, breaking the ice.

Sam chuckled softly. “Every day is a beautiful day for gardening, young man. Name’s Sam.”

“Peter,” I replied, extending my hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

We fell into easy conversation, Sam sharing stories of his years spent tending to these gardens and the solace he had found amidst the greenery. I listened intently, captivated by his wisdom and warmth.

“I’m actually embarking on a journey,” I confessed after a while, feeling oddly compelled to share my plans with this stranger. “A year of traveling and gardening, seeking solace and healing.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling with understanding. “Sounds like a good plan, Peter. Sometimes, you have to wander to find what you’re looking for. And who knows, maybe you’ll discover something you never even knew you needed.”

His words resonated deep within me, stirring something I couldn’t quite name. As we parted ways that day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our encounter had been more than mere chance.

Over the following weeks, I threw myself into the vibrant gardening community of Seattle, lending a hand wherever I could. From rooftop gardens to community plots, I immersed myself in the rich tapestry of life that flourished amidst the rain-soaked soil.

And through it all, I found solace. In the simple act of planting seeds and watching them grow, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, easing the ache in my heart. Sarah may have been gone, but her spirit lived on in every blossom that bloomed beneath my touch.

As I stood amidst the greenery, breathing in the earthy scent of damp soil and fresh growth, I knew that I was exactly where I was meant to be. And as I glanced up at the cloudy sky overhead, I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the first stirrings of hope begin to bloom within me.