Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge
A Quiet Expectation
Miriam left in the spring. She gave Clara a thin notebook full with old chants, ridge markings, and notes written by hand before she drove away. She said it wasn't an answer, but it was a place to start if anything like this happens again. Clara held her close. "Do you think they'll come back?"
The Ridge Grows Green
Windermere Ridge flowered in a way that Clara hadn't seen in years that fall. Grasses grew through dry clay. Wildflowers opened up quickly and in large numbers. Birds came back with varied songs, even if the rhythms were new to them. Elsie got louder and braver as she climbed rocks and named trees with terms she made up. Clara didn't say anything to her.
The new vegetation covered over the circle on the ridge, but Clara never let it go away completely. After every downpour, she cleaned it up. She knew it was important. Not to science, though. Maybe only to memory and to the balance of something she was living in now, even if she couldn't put a name to it.
What Stayed Behind
Years later, when Elsie was six, she wanted to go to the hill. Clara didn't think twice. They carefully climbed the old tracks, which were still there but not very clear. Elsie stood stationary for a long time at the top. "It's quiet now," she said. "Not like before," Clara said as she took her hand. "That's good."
Elsie nodded. "It means they trust us." They sat for a time, with the wind in their hair and red dirt under their nails. Clara didn't need any more answers. It wasn't a problem to fix. It was something they had gone through and would keep with them. Some things are true but shouldn't be explained. Just to be remembered. And they both did.
