My contribution to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt #thaw:
The flat rock remembered her sacrifice, but the land remembered only her love. Each spring the hills called her spirit out of the body of Earth and welcomed her home. The legend of the green maiden was known far and wide. It was told to children around fireplaces before the first thaw. Passed down through the generations.
Some say she lived hundreds of years ago. Others said thousands. And, some say she never really died. That the rock had given her eternal life, and not death.
The travelers who spotted her were always alone. She joined the ones who sat for a time in rest on the flat stone. As they gazed at the faraway hills, her green light would appear at their feet. Ah, the faires are out, spring must be on its way! The traveler would remark, unaware of the journey that awaited.
Then the green light would vanish and the brook that fell from the land of the giants would sing with her laughter.
Another one is coming, she called out to the sleeping hills. Time to wake up!