At the end of the street there is a stump of a plantain tree that probably was a couple of hundred years old when it died. It is at this tree that Annie cracked the watermelon and had the sweet juice run down her face which brought her joy on that hot summer day.
The other day I saw my neighbor standing by the tree stump with an electric saw. My first thought was, "Oh no I cannot stand it! He is going to remove the tree stump, he cannot! It is my souvenir of Annie!" I was so bothered I had to turn away, I didn't want to see or know what would happen. I went home thinking the next time I go down the street I will see the outcome.
A few hours later my friend Jan told me that a man carved a face in the tree.
A face that reminds me of Annie.
I tell you one of those watermelon seeds finally came into fruition!
And nearly on her anniversary.
The artist, my neighbor, is not finish with his creation. I have yet to tell him Annie's story. I cannot wait to hear his story as to why a woman's face...