The Forest Is Still

• Short story

								
The Stars Remember. 

How many years have passed now? A hundred? Two hundred? The years have been swept away by the wind. I watch from my small hill the young ones that sway below me. I can still remember when all I could see was the endless horizon, before any of the young ones had come. Back then there was no smoke on the horizon, no loud, rumbling noises. Now as I watch I can see the creatures with the rumbling machines. Here they come, with their blades and guns. The young ones fall as the rumbling gets closer. Why are they here? What is their purpose? To destroy? Now they are shooting the animals. I wonder if they will come for me. Their machines have ceased their rumbling. The young ones are being taken away by the creatures. I watch as they gather the shot animals and put them in one of their trucks. They are coming for me. I will wait. One of the small creatures lightly taps me then signals to  the others and nods. The machine starts and I feel its touch. I wonder if the ground will remember me. If the soil will. If the air will. Perhaps I will be simply forgotten. I am falling. My consciousness is fading and I feel weak and tired. Their machine has finally got me. The stars are shining and the moon is out. Good night world. 

In The Falling
I watched as the Great White Oak fell towards the ground and I wondered how long it had lived for. A hundred years maybe? Maybe even more judging by the rings in its trunk. “Now chop it up” I turned and saw Garvin, with his saw in hand gesturing to the tree. I picked up mine and started sawing at the great tree. As I sawed away at it I felt a deep sadness resonate in my heart. I could imagine the wind blowing through the branches, rusling the leaves. All the animals who had nested in the protection of the branches and in the hollows of the trunk. The rain that had nourished it, all the sunshine that had shone on it. 
We finished cutting it up and with logs in our arms brought it back to the truck. Before leaving I took one last look at it. All that remained was a stump. Good night and farewell

Penance

I saw it. I saw the stump. Dad said it used to be a great big White Oak. I knelt down and touched the old wood stump. I wonder what it had seen. I sat down and looked into the distance. I could see my house from here and many more houses. I wonder what the tree had seen,sitting on this same hill.  The neighborhood that was there is now used to be a forest. And perhaps the White Oak was the ruler. Or the protector. I heard birds chirping in the newly grown trees and smiled. Dad's project was coming along very well. He had planted a whole new forest and more animals were being inhabited. The air smelled fresh and sweet. I got up and turned around to look at what was left of the Great White Oak. I heard my Dad calling me back. I turned and ran, but not before saying goodbye. 
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