An Ancient Tree

    A Forgotten Forest

    On Earth

    He sat in the shade of spring, resting against the cool grass. The many birds flew overhead without much care for the being the pondered at the non-existing sky. Butterflies of all colors twirled above him as sunlight dared to break through. Nature moved forward with its same, monotone march, oblivious to what lay in her way.

    But he wasn’t about to let nature trample over him. Indeed, he wasn’t even going to argue. It was quite the contrary, as he enjoyed nature very much, often wondering if he himself would become more in tune with the earth itself, especially the forest. The woods had an air of renewal each spring that made him feel full of life. The smell of the new year always calmed his nerves, making him feel at peace. The strong odor of oak was an incense of beautiful power, making him think clearly and logically.

On any given day he would lay in this shade, bringing friends, books, paper, pen, or simply just himself. He felt this place was his safe haven, spending endless hours gazing before it. Rain or shine, the Tree protected him. The grass seemed to grow magically, as little sunlight and water made it into the giant valley ("the pit", they called it). Perhaps, as he had concluded some years ago, that the small stream on the northern slope held some chemical properties, allowing the green grass to appear every spring. But he usually joked with his friends, often saying "it’s magic!" the essence of it all made him chuckle frequently.

    But his pondering never ceased, as did his visits to the Tree. He began to find himself spending more and more time with it, as it were majestically whispering for him to come…

    The calling…it was unsettling that he spent so much of his life there before it. Or was it his imagination playing tricks again? But what if was really calling, subtly pulling him closer and closer?

    What could it be?