The tree

I met the governor at the end of a two track. Our destination was an abandoned cabin in an area flooded to knee depth.

Well, the cabin was the human landmark. We were really looking for a tree. It was a special tree, but it was difficult to pin down why.

We found the tree after a short hike. I marked it's location for her with a stick. Soon, other people would show up. Her staff, police, scientists.

The tree was barely the size of a shrub, sticking above the wat only about a foot. It was shaded by other, full-grown trees but you could sense its qualities. You could feel them.

Those qualities flowed through the area, affecting plants and animals. A large fish poked around near the tree’s roots, oblivious to me standing next to it. I poked it. It swam away as if in a trance. I could see deer gathering, watching, on a small hill just outside the flooded area.

“There’s a black bear over there that won’t move,” one of the other people called to us as they arrived.

I knelt down beside the tree, my knee resting on muddy ground. The air was full of dust particles slowly floating around and up.

The others set up equipment. We were going to stay a few days and needed to set up cameras and audio equipment to observe the area, and places to sleep. I rolled out my sleeping bag under the collapsed roof of the cabin’s bedroom.

Everyone else left. The governor and her staff had official duties, the guides to get food. That left me and a small child. I boiled water from the flooded area and when cooled, bathed the child.

I became aware of what can only be described as a low hum accompanied by the sense that something was aware of my presence. The dust danced to the tune of the hum and continued its slow drift up.

The hum got slightly higher; the sense of presence increased. The child and I looked at each other.