Drifting. Floating. This is fun. I float for a while. I land gently in a field of grass. Alone.
I reach down through grass and dirt, searching for water. There, I found some, AHHH. The Sun warms me.
The grass begins to block the warmth. I must stretch to reach it. So, I stretch. Water and Sun drive me day by day. I extend my legs and toes to find water and my arms and fingers to gather more of the Sun’s warmth.
Sometimes the Sun does not warm me but water hits every part of me. I do not have to search for water at these times. Sometimes the Sun does not warm me and it gets cold for periods. The wind is cold though my arms and fingers are cold my legs and toes are fine. Water is abundant. These periods of cold are short though compared to the other periods.
I see others. Others like me, searching for warmth and water. Do they see me? The wind blows harder and my arms and fingers wave and shake. Do they see me? My body no longer bends in the wind unless it is very strong. My legs and toes are deep in the dirt. I have found water plentiful here. As long as the Sun warms me and I have my water, I will grow and thrive.
Seasons of cold water and hot Sunshine come and go. I wave to my brethren when I can. They have grown in number over the seasons. Yet, I stand alone, apart from the others. I wonder if they will come to meet me here, as I cannot go to them.
Oh the pain! The pain! A season of cold and strong wind has come and one of my arms has broken off. It lies on the ground. The cold water soothes my pain.
For many seasons of cold water and hot Sun, I have stood, alone. Grass grows wild, flowers bloom to fade and bloom again in shades of reds, yellows, blues, pinks and purples; always beautiful.
Water is getting harder and harder to find in this time of hot Sun. It seems longer than normal. I find I must allow the very tips of my fingers to fall off early to conserve water. I will pull water back from even my fingers to survive. I find it hard to reach my legs and toes further to find deep water. I must continue to try even if my fingers and arms suffer. I will do what I must.
CRACK! Could this be water coming? This sound sometimes comes before the water. Sometimes, just rumblings. The Sun hides behind his blanket and the water usually comes. This time, though, no water comes, just bright streaks across the sky. CRACK! OUCH! Searing pain! Another arm has fallen, severed by a bright streak. At the break, it is red hot. It hurts so badly. Please let the water come to sooth me.
RUMBLE! Rumble. CRACK! Not again! No, I am not injured this time. All arms remain attached. Crack. I see a bright streak fall among my brethren. I hope they are all right. Over the past seasons, my brethren have come closer and closer. I can almost make out the tips of their fingers. Though none have come to my field yet. I would welcome them. I scan around in all directions until I spot a black cloud rising up amidst my brothers on my severed arm side. I watch, as the black cloud gets bigger. I hear sounds of crackling and moans from my brothers. I see flickers of the Sun around the black smoke. I have never seen the Sun come down so near this place, far in the distance, yes, but never here. The black cloud waifs in my direction. It makes it hard to breathe. I have never had to worry about breathing, until now. My brothers all around are now visited by the Sun, I hear them moan and creak. Please, let them be all right.
The visit of the Sun is over, I think. My brothers are no longer there. Everything is silent. They have died. Black, dead hulks are all that are left as far as I can see. I stand alone. How many seasons will I be alone? At least the water has come.
Seasons come and go. I have lost track of how many. Green has returned to my brothers’ land. Small brothers have started their journey down to the water and up to the Sun. Be careful little ones. Do not touch the Sun. You will die.
More seasons of cold water and warm Sun come and go. The little brothers have grown. Small animals have made their homes in my arms and body, I do not mind. I long to no longer be alone.
Seasons come and go. I can see very far now. Mounds of dirt no longer block my view. I have many brothers of various types as far as I can see. I am at peace now. I have endured the worst to this point. I realize I will endure or die. All things die. I have seen the small animals die or get killed by other small animals. I live on. All things except Sun, water, and dirt move faster from start of life to end than I do.
More seasons come and go. I endure more visits from the Sun; more cold water. I lose more arms but still I endure. And, I still stand alone.
There is black smoke in the distance, very small and not growing. This is not a visit from the Sun. Day by day, the smoke moves closer. One day a new animal appears from within my new brothers’ cover. Many of them come. I hear sharp smacks and fierce rubbing from within my brothers’ cover. They build small pits that contain small amounts of the Sun. They hunt and kill small animals. They have killed many of my brothers. Cut and pieced them back together to form some sort of nonliving structure. I hate them. Yet, I still stand. They turn the grass over and plant new plants, replacing my beautiful flowers with long grass that turns golden over time. Pretty, but not like my flowers.
More of my brothers are killed every season. More structures built. Man, as I have heard the new animals call themselves, is wasteful. Do they not know that if allowed to grow, we, my brothers and I, could provide for them as we do other animals? Build from our broken arms and from our dead. Dead is dead, we do not care if they are used. Why kill us?
Seasons pass…
There was a time when I was the tallest thing around. My field is gone. Replaced by tall buildings and busy streets surround me. Many men have moved into my field. All of my brothers, whom I could see from my great height, are gone. Man has planted others of my kind around but it does not compensate for the slaughter they committed in the past. I have survived many seasons with man around. Now they surround me. They dress me with strings of light in the cold water season. They water me when it is very hot and dry. They hold parties around me and enjoy my shade. They have surrounded me with a little stone barrier. I do not know if they try to restrain my growth, if so this tiny barrier will not work. I have lived and grown through many seasons. Through all of those seasons, I could have fared worse. Yet…
I stand alone.
Author: Jeff Boothe
Word Count: 1285
