Audio Version (music by Sergii Pavkin)
It was a stormy, windy night when the island’s power had gone out yet again. I was wondering about the trees and who the hell is flying that prop plane that’s slowly cruising over, as the big, bright ferry remains parked at the terminal across the narrows.
But the trees are more interesting. I imagine them enjoying it and dancing in the storm winds, exuberantly shouting “yyyyyeeeaaaahhh!” and “wheeeeeee!” (in tree language, of course). They have spent the majority of their lives standing calm and strong, unhurried. All of that spiraling and branching must have been done in part with the intention of one day being tested by the elements.
I wonder if there’s a collective “hooray!” when their spirit passes on, when they’re snapped in half or blown over to reveal their roots. Do the others nearby celebrate their friend’s awesome exit?
I used to love wind storms as a kid. Basically, any storm. Thunder has an intensity that one cannot find anywhere else. I enjoyed hanging out in a tree in our front yard, especially when it was windy. It wasn’t a massive pine like some of the adventurers outside my window now, living in coastal British Columbia, but it was tall enough to sway in a good breeze, and I would climb to the top. It was magical, especially with the overwhelming torrent of sounds and swirls.
And when this storm passes, and the rains come to wash away the dust, we’ll have to step over some debris while looking for the guilty parties. Those trees will just stand there innocently and stoically. What? There’s nothing to see here. Carry on.
Sure. Then why are you glowing?
Nature amazes.