“Well this is strange”, I said aloud, “How have I never seen you before?”. My eyes were fixed on the giant ivory white oak that dominated the space before me.
Every aspect of this botanical anomaly was as white as bone. The smooth trunk, which was comparable to an elephants waist, the large sweeping limbs that almost touched the ground before reaching back up to the sun, the thousands of identical leaves, even the veins that coursed through them, everything was as white as porcelain. Despite it’s ghostly appearance, it seemed to be in perfect health. It stood taller and broader than any other tree in the forest, or any other I’d ever seen for that matter.
My dog, Roose, approached the trunk and started walking in small concentric circles as he sniffed the ground. This is a ritual he always performs when looking for a place to pee. I almost yelled at him to stop, as if we aught to show deference to this tree for some reason unbeknownst to me, but I decided against it. The moment of his anticipation , however, was suddenly halted. I don’t know what was going on in his head, but he paced back to me and sat on his haunches as we both stared up at the white behemoth.
“So you’ll pee in the living room but not on this tree?” I said to him. He wagged his golden doodle tail in response. This is a strange tree indeed, that dog will pee on anything.
I took a few picture of it and we headed back home, I had things to do. We often go hiking in the woods behind my house but we had never ventured quite this far. I knew we’d have to come back soon.
Upon returning home, I left Roose in the fenced in backyard, and went into town to run some Saturday errands. I mostly kept the tree out of my thoughts for the rest of the day.
That evening, during the brief hazy moment between dusk and nightfall, in which it’s almost harder to see than night itself, I could almost swear that there was something white moving by the edge of the tree line but when I switched the flood lights on, nothing was there.
I dreamt of the tree that night. It felt all too real. I had walked out of my house and into the forest, barley able to see a thing. I walked with a single purpose, I was going to return to the white tree.
Fear tickled the back of my neck every step of the way, I knew I wasn’t alone. Something else stirred in the darkness around me. I could hear the faint snapping of twigs just out of sight. I could almost smell whatever it was, something stale and stagnant that polluted the otherwise clean air. It reminded me of the smell of a dead animal, but one that had been dead for a long time, it was very faint. I imagined stiff and unused joints moving and cracking, opening seams into whatever rotting life this creature had left.
The fear of it threatened to steal my attention but I had a stronger conviction that kept me moving forward. A vision of the tree stood tall in my mind, and everything else fell by the wayside.
In the strange lapse of time that is only common to dreams, I suddenly found myself standing in approximately the same place I had earlier that day. My eyes were transfixed by the tree once again. It’s illuminating aura shined even more brilliantly in the night, like bioluminescence at the bottom of the sea. Whether it was a beacon of hope or a lure of some unseen angler fish waiting in ambush, I couldn’t say.
I stood there, hypnotized, out of space and time for what seemed like an eternity. The tree quelled my anxieties and dulled my fears. Even so, I knew the creature was watching me, waiting in the darkness.
I awoke peacefully and well rested. The gray morning light peaked around my blinds and I threw back the covers with a youthful strength I hadn’t felt in years. The underside of the sheets were covered in mud… my stomach turned as I looked at my dirty feet. I stared for a moment and then got up.
Roose was his normal joyful self as he greeted me in the kitchen. He stretched and yawned as I brewed my morning coffee and we both stepped out onto the back porch. He laid down at my side, apparently he hadn’t had quite enough sleep. I stared out into the woods, slowly sipping the hot beverage.
Had I really gone into the forest last night? Was that thing really out there?
The questions spun round and round in my head until I found myself lacing up my boots. Roose knew what that meant and he ran to the gate ready for another hike.
We started out on our usual trail, and walked at a leisurely pace. We snaked up and down, left and right, taking the path of least resistance. We walked until beads of sweat dripped down my brow and Rooses’ tongue hung out of his mouth. “Lets take a break buddy”, I said as I leaned back against a wide beach tree. Roose obediently circled back and laid on the cool dirt at the base of the tree. I should have brought some water for both of us, maybe even a snack.
Roose jolted up into a crouched position and stared off to our right. His ears stood straight, scanning for something that was out of my frequency. He released a low growl and the hair on his back bridged. He might be a sweet goofy dog, but I trusted his instincts, he was smarter than he let on.
His large K-9 paws dug into the dirt as he darted off the trail in pursuit of, God knows what. I yelled after him to come back but I figured it would be futile. I did my best to keep up but before long I had only the sounds of crunching leaves in the distance to guide me.
It must have been half a mile before the sound of his gallop stopped. I clumsily tagged along but I’d stopped yelling for him, I didn’t want to admit it but I was afraid that something might hear me.
I slowed to a walk and approached warily, my heart was beating so loud that it was difficult to hear. But up ahead I swear it sounded like mumbling.
I emerged from a thickly wooded patch of under brush to see Roose wagging his tale and smiling at a park ranger that was kneeling next to him and scratching his ears.
“Hello there”, I said, “What’s a park ranger doing in these parts? If you don’t mind me asking”. The ranger rose to his full height, which was well over 6 foot.
“Forest safety, that’s all.” he said with a kind southern accent.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t this private property? My property line ended a while back but I didn’t think this was state or federal land.”
“It’s private property for now, but it’ll be a national park very soon. I have permission to be out here, it’s what you might call reconnaissance. You on the other hand are trespassing”, he said.
I blushed like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I apologize, Roose and I were just going for a walk, I suppose we went a little too far.”
“No harm done, there’s bound to be a little confusion during this transitionary period. Take this good boy here and y’all get home. I wouldn’t come back out here if I were you. I suspect that you’ll receive an offer for your home from the federal government in a few days.”
“What?” I said “There kicking me off my property?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fairly compensated.” He said
“But this is my home. Why do they want this land?” I asked.
He held up his hands in defense, “Don’t shoot the messenger. The powers that be have decided that this land needs to be preserved at all costs, that includes the cost of your convenience. I’ve been understanding of your situation and more than polite but I’m reminding you once again that you are trespassing and it’s time for you to go home.”
“I understand, we’ll be on our way”. I whistled for Roose and he came trotting over, oblivious to what had just transpired.
We headed back in the direction of home. At least what was home. This was all very strange and suspicious. Especially considering what was behind the ranger. I didn’t bring it up because I got the feeling that he thought I didn’t see it. About 100 foot behind him was a large camouflaged tarp that was stretched tight over something. It was at ground level.
I can’t come back out here today but if I want to find out what all this is about I believe that my window of opportunity is closing. I’ll have to come back tonight to get a closer look at what he’s hiding.