It was in the last stages of sleep that I began to feel the warm morning
sun strike my face, and hear the pleasant chirping of birds and
crickets. I rolled slowly over, stretched my legs and my back, and stood
up, with the last remnants of a dream playing quietly in my mind. But as
I came to my feet and got a clear view of where I was, I realized it was
not a dream that I had had at all, but something far more sobering. I
found myself somewhere in the center of a very large prairie which
covered the land for many miles around. From the sun's lowly position on
the eastern horizon, it was evident to me that the new day was just
dawning, casting a golden hue on the grasses that covered the prairie's
surface.
Around the distant outskirts of the plain I could make out a ring of
trees circumventing the whole, waving almost imperceptibly to and fro in
the light breeze that was blowing. A few miles to the southwest there
was a group of odd looking trees stretching up over the horizon to a
considerable height. They were closer than the outer ring, which kept a
uniform girth around the prairie, but somehow they looked very peculiar
and foreboding, and I got one of those sobering feelings which I like to
call predestined deja vu. What I mean is that I got a sense of deja vu,
but instead of the past converging with the present into one thought,
the present seemed to converge with the future, and the result was a
mysterious foreboding of something, though I couldn't tell what. That is
the sensation that I had when I saw what I assumed to be a small
grouping of trees somewhere in the southwestern portion of the savanna,
though that was merely a guess, for in the distance I could only make
out several dark forms rising out of the grassland like trees, or
possibly buildings, one of them being a great deal taller than the
others, with a spherical shape on top that only faintly resembled a
tree's crown. If it was indeed a tree, it was the largest that I have
ever seen, for it looked to be upwards of 800 feet tall.
My mental warning bells were ringing quite loudly, and I endeavored to
silence them by extreme exertions of the will, but they would not be
subdued. I assumed that they were not at all correct, much like the
fearful expectancy some have while swimming in the ocean, out of sight
of all land, of being attacked by an enormous leviathan of the deep. As
unfounded as the fear is, it places one into a frenzy of dubious
thoughts that inspire equally frantic and anarchist actions. Because of
this, I thought that my ideas were naught but superstitious fancies, yet
try as I might, I could not rid myself of them.
Instead, I made up my mind to set off in the opposite direction, north,
and to advance at a double march until I should reach the woody border,
which looked to present shelter not only from the southern apparitions,
but also from the shielded underworld of the grasses, in which also
dwelt the mysterious sense of fear and predestined deja vu. It was
slightly chilly, but beyond that nothing defaced the temperate beauty of
the day, and even that promised to soon dissipate with the continual
strengthening of the sun's warmth. As I walked, or rather, trotted
along, it did just that, and in the growing warmth of the day the sweet
fragrances of the many various grasses rose to the surface, delighting
my odor perceiving sensors with their earthy simplicity.
The day marched on, and with it I, and the distant wall of trees began
to slowly grow closer. At length, I found myself at their edge, at
around the noon hour, and as I came upon the first of them, I leaned
against the trunk of a large, thickset tree for a moment of repose and
reflection in its shade. It was by all appearances an ancient wood, for
the line between it and the prairie was distinct, appearing as if the
shrubs and lesser flora had acquiesced to fate and retreated beyond the
forest's claimed boundaries, rather than continue for countless ages to
charge and then be pushed back, to gain a foothold only to be thrown out
a year or two later. The trees themselves were mighty pinions of
strength, tall and of great girth, and spread far apart from one
another, leaving wide open spaces between their towering trunks. A
short, soft grass clothed the land that stretched on in their midst,
joined in its solitude by a hearty looking moss that stretched itself
out on the trunks of the trees and on the rocks and boulders that lay
scattered here and there among the open spaces. Far above, the trees'
great branches spread out a thick canopy, covering the whole of the
forest area in a relaxing and invigorating twilight, rendering itself
homely and quaint. After a few moments of enjoying that most pleasing
scene, I roused and extricated myself unwillingly from its enchanted
depths and set off once more into the heart of the woods, having no
where else to go.
After a time, I cannot say how long, I came upon a small, trickling
stream which flowed deeper into the woods, that direction being
northward. A short walk along its path, after refreshing myself to
content with its pure waters, brought me to its destination: a large
lake into which the forest opened. Its banks were very gradual and the
grass of the woodland led right up to the water's edge. The surface of
the water itself was smooth and delicate.
Amidst the pleasantness of the scene, there was something missing from
the feel of the area: inhabitants. There was an abundance of wild life
of all kinds, and much organic life as well, but something greater than
flora or fauna was missing: people. I had traveled so far, and without
any sighting of a person. It was a lonely and desolate feeling which
prevailed, despite the abundances of life. Novelties soon grow worthless
with no one to share them with, ideas become meaningless if not
communicated timely, emotions grow boisterous and uncontrollable with no
end to receive them.
I was quite alone, unfortunately, and it dampened my spirits
considerably. Feeling despondent, I turned and walked sullenly from the
lake's edge into the woodland once more, with no definite purpose in
mind, only a meandering thought of my dismal situation. My thoughts
morphed, in succession, from anxiety to despair, to anger, to
frustration, and in my frustration I knelt down and picked up a fallen
branch from the ground, walked to the nearest tree, and eyed a strange,
protruding knob that stuck out from the trunk. I held the branch at
shoulder's length and swung it at the knob with all the force of my
built up emotions. It hit with a crash and a hollow thud, leaving the
branch broken and my arm sore, but the knob undamaged.
But then something unexpected happened: with a grating noise, a small
hole appeared part way up the trunk, coming from what looked to be solid
wood, for no sign was seen before of its having an opening. From the
newly opened hole was then thrust out a head, hairy and with a short
snout-like edifice for a nose and mouth. Its eyes and the furry hair
which covered its face were brown, and a few wily whiskers protruded
from its snout. With a look of utter surprise, as if it had not expected
me as much as I had not expected it, it eyed me closely for a moment and
then looked anxiously from side to side and told me to come in.
When those words passed its lips, or whatever artifice it spoke from, a
great weight fell from my shoulders. After a short moment, quickened by
my relief, a door appeared in the trunk of the tree, its edges
previously hidden behind the thick mosses. Swinging inwards, it opened
and revealed the creature standing there, beckoning me to enter. I did,
and the door shut behind me, leaving me in the darkness of the hollow
tree.