The Green Forest

The Green Forest

There was a forest. It was there. It would always be there, or so it felt.

The trees were tall and strong. Their roots stretched deep into the soil, holding them securely into place. Thick, spongy moss blanketed the forest floor. Life teemed in the shadows. And the trees hardly cared.

And someone began to walk.

Small patches of sunlight streamed down through the canopy, forcing someone to open his eyes. He was confused by the forest. Where am I? he thought. Why am I here? He didn’t know what else to do so he cried. His tears dripped to the mossy ground. The moss was nurtured by the water, and burned by the salt. His sobs resonated through the forest, frightening some creatures and interesting others. Still, he walked and wept, stumbling blindly and loudly through the undergrowth. Where? Why? No one knows.

After crashing a few more yards, the stream cascading down his face calmed to a trickle. He needed food, water, help. But where? He continued to stumble haphazardly through the forest, but now desperately paying attention to his surroundings. Naked feet pressed into the moss, leaving deep footprints that would slowly disappear without a trace. Bits of earth remained between the feet’s toes. Suddenly, something miraculous appeared in front of the someone who possessed the feet with the toes with the dirt. Really, it was he who appeared before it.

It was a tree. It seemed different from the others, though it may not have been. It beckoned. Friendly, shapely, and lovely, he was drawn to it. His gait was mesmerized, losing its fear and destruction. Only when he came very near to the tree did he notice the fruit it bore and the collection of water pooled in its roots. Gluttonously, immediately, he grabbed the miraculous fruit from their giving branches. The succulent necessities made their way into his mouth, but in his violent relief, much of the juice dripped sloppily to the forest floor. The moss was nurtured by the water. It didn’t know what to do with the sugar. He gorged himself, continuing to devour the beauties until his stomach not only protested but threatened. He was satisfied. The fruit had tasted terrible.

After a few seconds of bliss and several more of intestinal discomfort, he noticed an incredible thirst. Then he noticed the water. Ravenously, some of the puddle leapt from itself and down his esophagus. The stream flowed until it choked him then quickly ceased, as if it were afraid to hurt him. A couple fragments of the former river forced their way out of his mouth, down his chin and back home to the pool among the roots.

He stood up, looked around for a second, and continued to walk. This time, however, he walked with grace, not out of control or under control, but in control. Now he knew he could find food and water whenever he wanted. Now he was no longer frightened, but curious. Of course, he was still confused.

His walk became calmer and calmer, his mind less and less foggy. And in front of him appeared a path. It was shaky, unclear, and disappeared in parts, but unlike before, it existed. Now he had direction. Though he didn’t know whether the simple trail would lead him out of the forest or deeper into it, he didn’t care. Now he had a future. This will help me, he thought he knew.

There was no real end to the forest, but he wouldn’t be there forever.

The path smoothened. It became easily decipherable, and made the rest of the forest appear simple. Along the side of the easy trail, he found more of the marvelous tree with its fruit and water. They all looked remarkably similar to the first one. He didn’t notice. He still only cared about what it gave him.

Throughout his trek, the sun had beamed benevolently, magnanimously from the gaps in the distant leaves of the nearby trees. It had been so reliable that he had forgotten it. A small, dark cloud floated dangerously close to obscuring it. Like the sun and the sky, it was not noticed. For shadows would bring fear, and the forest had unwittingly fostered him, protecting him without acknowledging him, the maliciously drifting cloud was decided not to cover the faraway brilliance. The generosity would likely not last. Though the sun still shone, the forest began to grow darker.