They lay together beneath the great oak tree.
A solitary couple, laying on a thick bed of brown leaves, holding hands. It is an isolated place, so far away from the beaten track that few ever come here. Only those that know of the existence of this wonderful example of Mother Nature come to this place. The distant drone of traffic can only just be heard. The residential area seems to be so close, yet so far from this idyllic spot.
They lay perfectly still.
They are not young lovers. The man and the woman are both in their fifties. They come here each year to lay and to look up into and through the magnificent spreading branches of this ancient oak. There is a blue, cloudless sky, beyond the branches and the leaves.
It is a private thing. This is where he was found.
“This may be what he saw,” she says.
“Yes,” he murmurs.
“This may be his last view of things in this world,” she says.
He nods and they fall silent again, paying homage to the missing member of their once happy family, their ardent tree-climber.
Eventually, their hands release and they stand.
They carefully brush one another off, then slowly make their way home.
Alone.