Water falls off a nearby cliff. It plunges into a vast pool that saturates the dirt underneath. Mist pervades across the land, spreading it’s vapor throughout the green grass. The grass sparkles with dew drops, fascinating the many animals that lay stretched across it. Hills fly over the pool, hiding it from the sight of anyone who may come near. On one hill beside the quaking water, there lived a withering tree. This tree looked upon the land with branches open wide. She welcomed anyone who came near her hill, waving them over with a simple flick of her wrist. The leaves on her bare back were mostly eaten away by insects… but she didn’t mind. Animals came once and a while to her hill. They sat comfortably under her when the sky was bright and sunny. When the night came, the animals went home and left the tree. In these hours, she contemplated the wind, the stars and the world around her. “What will come of tomorrow?” she asked herself. A chill answered her question, sending the dead leaves of her past off on their own journey. By the morning, clouds greeted her as they passed the hill. She stood still, content with old age while the day flew by her like the birds at her doorstep. Each day was the same. Animals. Wind. Night. Shade. Animals. Wind. Night. Shade. They never changed… By the time many moons had passed, all her leaves were dancing along the grass. It was fall. The tree sat silently for the oncoming animals each day… but none came. She waited patiently for them to sit under her, waving them over from their caves and holes, saying “come out and sit with me.” But none still came. Once and a while a bird would perch itself silently on her branch, feathering itself and searching for food. It soon darted away unexpectedly, leaving no trace of the creature ever being there. The tree swayed uneasily, wishing to be comforted. Days went by with no one there. Only the grass and the insects fluttering by were her companions. They curled up next to her roots and burrowed themselves under her rough skin. The night sky greeted her with millions of stars, but none came down to say hello. Nothing did.
The tree sat humming mournfully on a windy day in October. She rustled her bare branches and stretched her spine, wishing for excitement. It was quite peaceful on this day, with no hint of commotion. The wind brushed her trunk soothingly as birds flew quickly past her, in haste to be somewhere she knew not. Insects flew suddenly out of her roots as if running away from something. She looks around. Nothing but warmth was felt. “it must be the weather” she said. She sighed in relief and decompressed her branches. The tips of her bark chips tingled as a different aroma seeped into her core. She noticed that the air was becoming thicker, making it difficult to breath. Her chest ached from the fumes, leaving her shaking and worried. The tree looked around once more. Black smoke surrounded the area. Soon it covered the sun, filling the area with darkness. Only the the distinct shadow of a cliff was to be seen above the smoke. The sound of pouring water was overpowered by a faint crackling noise. She glanced fearfully to the south. At first nothing was seen but smoke for miles. Then suddenly there was a clearing. Out near the end of the valley, a wave of flames leaped over the hills. Fire as bright as the sun swept across the land, leaving nothing but ashes and decay behind it. The red arrows of deaths came closer to the tree, calling her to it. She brightened and straightened her aging back, hope bubbling up inside of her. “A new friend” she kept saying, unable to find the hidden wile that stood inconspicuously in front of her. The crackling of the flames sounded harmonious in her ears, echoing like a songbird that never ceased singing. It came closer and close, blackening the sky around her. She straightened her branches, ready for her new companion. Once the fire was almost upon her, she reached out and waved many twigs towards it. The wind howled along with the flames that pattered against the drying grass. It blew against the tree, beckoning her to face death. At last the friend stood beside her, crackling it’s orange autumn colors and holding out it’s hand. She took it.
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*Instead of once and a while, it might be once in a while.
Besides that, any artist or writer who can so clearly depict nature. From the beginning to the end. I could really taste and feel that water. Reminded me of the incredible aspects of the outdoors.
This was really incredible. This piece could win an award. This piece should be published. It’s truly one of the best things I have read in a while. Could be due to my love of rain, and soil, and just being. But you really captured and portrayed many things that come to mind with the birds and company and my goodness.
Stellar piece. Terrific writing.