I’ve always had a deep connection to nature that only grew through the years. During my last two years of high school, most of my friends moved out of state so I started spending more and more time with the trees and less time with other people. Even to the point that, after spending a semester in a hot, crowded dorm, I decided college wasn’t for me and dropped out. My parents were happy enough to see me but I could still feel their discomfort with my educational decisions. I don’t blame them. “It just felt wrong” is hardly the most well thought out or valid of arguments but it was all I had to offer them at the time. I knew it wasn’t enough, so I left. I quickly packed my bags, threw them in my car, and headed north with no particular destination in mind.
After several hours on the road, the highway I was on narrowed and turned to dirt while the trees standing silent sentinel along its meandering path got taller and darker. I drove slowly with the windows down, both to take in the incredible sights and to avoid careening off this dirt track clinging so desperately to the mountain. Once I rolled down my windows, I turned off my music. It felt out of place in the peaceful environment. My eyelids were getting heavier, the sun having long disappeared beneath the horizon, so I pulled off onto a little patch of dirt on the side of the road. I started getting ready to sleep but when I looked out into the trees I once again felt their call, so I left.
Walking from the car, the silence was so potent it sucked the air from my lungs, this silence was ancient and sacred. I felt breaking it with any significant noise would be a great sin against the forces of Nature. A gust of wind noiselessly made its way through the trees, stirring the lowest branches and tossing my hair in my face. On the wings of the silent wind, I heard a sound so soft and natural it could perhaps only be heard because of the unnatural absence of background noise. It drew my attention to one particular tree a couple hundred feet from the road.
All the trees were dancing to the silent rhythm of the wind, all except one. This one danced offbeat and irregularly to no particular rhythm. It seemed as if each branch had a mind of its own, every bough twisted and writhed like an unfortunate worm on a fisherman’s hook, the wood bending impossibly. The noise then seemed to form words in a language so old it had not been uttered for centuries at least, yet I understood. They told me they lived in the silent spaces of the world, where their words could be heard. Once the world was full of silent spaces, spaces where animals and man alike instinctively knew no noise above a whisper was permitted, but humans had lost touch with their instincts, only some being able to feel the unspoken rules that govern all. I fell to my knees in silent reverence for the gods that once were, and will be again. They have a plan, they said, we will return the world to how it once was, when the gods reigned and silence owned large swaths of land.
The hum of a motor accompanied by the sound of tires tearing up moist dirt ripped me from my state of pleasant reverence. I inhaled sharply and looked up to notice the first faint glow that changes the sky from black to dark blue before dawn warms the air and brings the sun. I returned to the road to get a glimpse of our invader, but when he saw me he quickly pulled over and got out of his car.
“Hey man are you alright?” He called while approaching. His voice cut through the air, shocking me into stunned silence for a second.
“Yeah I’m fine” I whispered, my voice seeming no less strange in the environment. “My car is over there, just keep driving.”
“Dude you’re covered in dirt, your knees are clearly bleeding and you’re shivering violently. I can’t just leave you here, I’ll call for help.” I knew I couldn’t let him call for help lest more people invade our sanctuary, our church.
“Alright I’ll go with you, but can I please show you something first?” He was clearly skeptical, but given that he seemed to have a good 100lbs on me, he probably thought I wasn’t much of a threat and so he nodded his head and followed where I beckoned. He so clearly wanted to help and seemed like a good guy so I thought I would induct him into my newfound religion and have him help with the mission assigned by them. When we finally reached the tree I grabbed him by the shoulder and pointed, hoping he would grasp all that I did. He shot me a puzzled look so in a whisper as quiet as I could manage I said “This is our connection to the gods.”
“Alright I’m getting you help.” he cried in a voice far too loud to be tolerated. I knew immediately that this transgression would need to be punished. He quickly turned towards the road and made to return, in his haste stepping on leaves and branches, increasing his sins and sealing his fate. Given his determination to get back, he didn’t hear me pick up the branch, or close the gap between us. He gave a soft grunt when the wood connected with the base of his skull and fell silent at last, ceasing his transgressions.
I dragged the body of the offender back to the base to the base of the tree, it just felt right, and once his skin touched the bark, the tree reacted. Almost instantly, roots broke the damp soil and coiled around what was once a human being. Pencil-thin roots carved into his body by the hundreds, tunneling in and out and back in again, giving his flesh the appearance of a very wormy apple or wood afflicted by termites. Within minutes, the fresh corpse was desecrated and nearly mummified, bringing a smile to my lips as I felt my connection to the gods increase.
The voices started back up with renewed vigor and my mission was made clear to me.
The next one needs to be alive.