The forest

At first there is a silence and as the silence becomes deafening a tiny sound starts to reverberate. The heart of the forest is responding to the stillness of the sound. The trees realise that there are no humans around. No one to disturb the sound of silence or the sound of life. Just as the trees grow used to their inner silence other sounds start to awaken. The wind blows gently and the leaves of the fir trees start quietly swishing together.

A bird flies down onto a branch and quietly begins to chirrup. As there is no disturbance from anyone he lifts his voice higher and higher until it reaches the flock flying silently overhead. The flock almost come to a shrieking halt as the sound floats up to them. This is joyous, this is freedom. One by one the birds fly down to alight on branches and join their voices to the voice of the lone swallow. The night birds ruffle their feathers in their sleeping foliage and lazily add their sound to the rising melody.

The brook which flows on the edge of the forest seeps in the happiness around it and beginnings to chortle and bubble its way to the stream ahead. The frogs realise that the time has come to join in and they time their croaks to meld in with the general melody. The tree frogs slither out the water, creeping along like Gollum. They find a spot on the trunk of the trees and join in with their unique song. Squirrels pop out of their sleeping areas and become a silent audience to this midnight madness of the forest. Little dassies, feral cats and abandoned dogs slink closer hoping to be accepted. As they see that all are beginning to harmonise in song, sounds and life they relax and become glad to join the circle. Even the snakes slithering out of their homes realise that this is different. It is safer. This is what they have dreamed of.

Soon the jubilations start to quieten as the animals drift off to sleep exactly where they came to rest and the forest slumbers and is stronger for the peace it has experienced even if only for one brief night. As dawn arises, the birds start their morning chorus, the animals look around and are surprised to still be possessed of that beautiful relaxed feeling of the night before. Something has happened, there has been one small change, almost imperceptible but there has been a change.

As the daylight gets stronger the animals look around and wonder when they need to take cover from the hunters and loggers who daily spoil their homes and their harmony. But nothing happens. The wise owl thinks he knows the answer and sings amidst his hoots to tell his thoughts.

“Tawoo… It is the barbarian’s day of rest.” He nods wisely as he says “They will be back tomorrow so let’s enjoy one more day of possession of our forest.”

The other animals decide to accept the owl’s wise words and go about their business and play undisturbed by the fact that they have let their guard down and man may come at any moment to break it up. As the sun goes down the forest folk realise that they have been given a fabulous gift of one undisturbed day and all raise their voices in thanks for this blessing and then slowly doze off. Some are twitching with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.

But joy of joys tomorrow dawns and the beauty of the day before is repeated. Soon the animals and birds and trees begin to hope that the new life has indeed begun. But none of them had ventured to the outskirts of the forest. If they had they would have been surprised to see small primitive homes being built to surround and protect the forest. They would have seen an elderly kind looking man (let’s call him John) who had at last won his fight against the marauders. Yes! He and his family had pooled their resources to protect this the last surviving forest on earth in the hopes of educating the greedy that humans cannot just go on their path of destruction, they need to protect what little resources are left. 

Man needs oxygen; trees need carbon dioxide so we can live in a symbiotic system and grow.

© Vera Alexander