Some nights I lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue. Most quarrels are quite entertaining to eavesdrop on. Some are tiring, pointless, and not worth listening to. Today, when I lay down on my spot by the lake, my name is tossed into their conversation.

“It looks like Lillian has returned.” An oak tree spoke.

“Who?” The groggy timbre of the weeping willow answered.

“Lillian! Th...

I didn’t know how important everything was or I’d not have done it. I didn’t know my very existence in this world was dangerous. If I had never done this they would have never destroyed everything. If you’re reading this do not ask any questions or they will get you. Now let’s start at the beginning, shall we…

It was gym when strange things started happening- though strange things are normal to ...

(this is a companion to my other story “peeling potatoes.” you can still understand this story if you haven’t read the other one.)

this was an absolute disaster. the house was a mess, the dinner was half ready, and the rain was pounding down on the roof of my little cottage relentlessly.

oh, and another thing i forgot to add: my neighbor could be here any minute.

i didn’t _want_ to, i ...

Some nights I lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue.

The quite whistles flowing from tree to tree tells the tale of each tree. This tale can be how long they have been there, what they have experienced, and advice for the future generations of trees that slowly sprout up around them.

As I lay and listen to the trees debate their history I slowly become attuned to the other so...

Some nights I lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue, the swings swaying in the wind, and the lighter clicking

The howling wind thrashed the trees causing them to bicker

“why are your branches hitting me” one tree asked

“Because I thought you where hitting me first ” said the other tree

“I’m not even trying to” said the first tree

“I’m not either” said the second tree

“Well I d...

“Lois, get your root off of mine, budge over,” Gregor, the Pine, grumbled.

“Oh, quit your griping, you old geezer,” Laney, the Sassafras, piped in, “leaf some light for the rest of us tomorrow, will ya?”

Her mother, the Laurel, chided her, “Twigling, what have I told you about disrespecting your alders?”

“That’s ‘Old Growth’ to you, missy,” Lois, the Banyan, cut in.

Mabel, the Maple, extended a b...

They sway back and forth with the mediator, the wind, and speak volumes on history and ethics, morals and passion. The oak sits on the edge of the farmland near a birch. The two have been raised together, grown together, lived together. They’ve seen each other’s darkest moments: trimmed, broken branches falling after a storm. Yet, they disagree. They’ve seen the same days, the same nights, the sam...

Some nights, I lay silent on the grass and listen to the trees argue. Some nights I watch the stars connect as they sing and dance. Some nights, I sit by the shore and listen to the waves gossip.

On this night, I’m alone. I can feel the touch of the grass or the ripples of water. But mother nature has the peace. Mother nature has the silence.

I will always be alone physically wi...

Some nights I lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue.

It is my one freedom in life, but freedom always has a costly price.

It’s only on the darkess nights, when the wind makes the old house creak. I slip out of my bed and place one foot silently in front of the other. I skip the third step becuase it always squeaks under my weight.

I stick to the shadows and hold my breath unt...

Every night, Uriyah would leave his small cottage at the edge of the ancient forest of Telmar, climbing the hill nearby to meditate and connect with the inner light of El Olam, which dwelled within him as a guardian of the Eternal’s light. As he clasped his hands in fervent prayer, his eyes would shine like two bright stars, illuminating the night with a holy glow. After his ritual, he would lay d...