I wrote a #microfiction
, or #midsummer
if you prefer.Midsummer’s Journey
We took a shortcut, a walk through the woods on a sunny day. As the path led into the trees, everything changed. Civilisation disappeared in a heartbeat as we passed into a haze of greens and browns, dotted with flowers on the ground below and birdsong above.
We were in another realm and I was soon transported away. I inhaled the smell of the wood, the crunch of a twig underfoot, the soft play of light and shade, and I grew. She didn’t notice, walking beside me, that I was filled with forest, tall as the trees.
Looking around with new eyes, I saw now a hundred shades of green, a thousand shapes of leaf, a network of branches and shrubs, flowers and earth, buzzing insects and silent worms.
But then I noticed, she was walking right beside me, equally tall and connected. King and Queen of the woods, we surveyed all the life around us.
But no, not monarchs, for the trees surrounding us were our equals, greeting us as we passed, sharing nutrients with us underground, dancing where they stood. Subtly, they directed us to a large, majestic oak, at the height of its power under the sun high overhead.
It greeted us with a deep whisper of leaf on branch, blessed us with a drop of sap on the forehead, the warmth of its touch changing us forever as we swam in the wisdom of countless generations of trees.
And then it sent us on our way, and as we stumbled on dreamily, already we could feel the oak’s power pass its peak as the faintest shadow of a cloud momentarily dimmed the sun.
Then the warmth of the forest carried us onward, guiding us with inhuman hands that pointed the way and caressed us as we passed, until the path opened up and led outward.
We stepped through, and suddenly we were human again, my sister and I, walking awkwardly home.
She pointed at my face and laughed, “You’ve got sticky stuff on your forehead!”
“So do you,” I replied.