[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
carried thus, over water and field, mountain and plain, the sapling did not
know. It might have been an instant or a month. A tree's sense of time is very
different from that of most other living things.
Then it felt itself falling, tumbling crown over root, spiraling toward the
ground. Nature is rife with examples of extraordinary accidents, and the fall
of the tree was one of those exceptions. It landed not on its side as would
have been expected, nor on its crest. It struck the ground with its slender
trunk exactly perpendicular to the earth. Bare roots slammed into and
partially penetrated the loose-packed surface, giving the tree immediate if
uncertain support. Expelled from the tail end of the swiftly moving storm, the
tree shuddered in its farewell gusts but did not fall. The tempest continued
on its way, wreaking devastation to the east and leaving the tree behind. It
was surrounded by other debris that had been abandoned by the weather, but
most of it was dead. That which was not soon died and began to decompose. Only
the tree survived. Along with wind, the storm had contained a great deal of
water, which fell along its path as heavy rain. The soil in which the tree had
providentially landed upright was now saturated, so much so that the sapling's
roots were able to draw from this source for many months after its unwilling
transplantation. Against all odds, its roots took hold in the alien ground.
Where winter had been approaching in the tree's homeland, it was summer where
it had landed. Sap began to flow well in advance of the date determined by the
tree's biological clock. This perturbation also it adapted to.
Buds appeared on those branches that had survived the storm's wrath. Leaves
sprouted and unfolded wide, drinking in the strong, unobstructed sunlight of
their new home. In this new land there were far fewer insects, and so the tree
was able to grow even faster than was normal. Over the years its branches
thickened and its trunk put on weight. It spread its arms wide to shade the
ground on which it stood. This helped to preserve the rain that fell
seasonally and rarely, much more so than in the land where the tree had first
sprouted.
But beneath its roots lay a consistent, subterranean supply of water. This the
tree tapped with roots that bored deep, assuring it of proper nourishment no
matter how infrequent the annual rains. With no other growths in its immediate
vicinity, it had no competition for nutrients. Only the sparseness of the land
itself kept it from growing to even greater proportions. Inherently
unambitious, over the years and the decades and even the centuries, the
sapling flourished and matured into a fine, tall specimen of its species, with
numerous major branches and a trunk whose diameter far exceeded that of its
parent. As the centuries unfolded, it observed the comings and goings of
hundreds of creatures, from small beetles
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...01%20-%20Carnivores%20Of
%20Darkness%20&%20Light.txt (107 of 143)19-2-2006 17:31:32
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswijk/Mijn%20d...20Catechist
%201%20-%20Carnivores%20Of%20Darkness%20&%20Light.txt that tried and were
unable to penetrate its dense, healthy layer of bark to migrating birds and
Page 117
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
other flying creatures that found grateful refuge in its branches.
Occasionally, intelligent beings would pass by, and pause to enjoy the shade
it gave freely, and marvel at its unexpected splendor. Unexpected, because the
tree was alone. Not only were there no other trees of its kind in the
vicinity, there were none anywhere in sight. With none of the particular
insects that were needed to pollinate its flowers, its seeds did not
germinate, and so it was denied the company even of its own offspring. No
lowly bushes crowded its base to make use of its protective shade, no flowers
blossomed beneath its branches. There were not even weeds. There was only the
tree, spectacular in its isolation, alone atop the small hillock on which it
grew. An accident of nature had condemned it to eternal hermitage. But a tree
cannot die of loneliness.
Every year it put out new leaves, and every year it hoped for the company of
its own kind. But there were only visiting insects, and birds, and the
occasional small animal, or travelers passing through.
Three such were approaching now, and an odd trio they were. Though it had no
eyes, the tree perceived them. Through sensitive roots that grew just beneath
the surface it sensed the vibration of their coming.
It knew when they increased their pace, and felt when they slowed and stopped
beneath it. Two of the travelers immediately sat down at the base of its
trunk, leaning their backs against its staunch solidity.
The tree supported them effortlessly, grateful again for some company. Such
visitations were rare and welcome. Lately, the tree had come to treasure them
even more. Because it was dying. Not from senescence, though given its long
lineage that would not have been unnatural, or even unexpected.
Despite its great age it was still inherently healthy. But its roots had
exhausted the soil in the immediate vicinity. Despite the extent and depth to
which they probed, they could no longer find enough of the nutrients vital to
the tree's continued health. The land in which the tree had taken root so long
ago was simply not rich enough to support more than another decade or two of
continued healthy life. And with no other vegetation nearby to supply new
nutrients through the natural decomposition of leaves and branches and other
organic matter, there was nothing to renew the supply the tree had mined when
it had been planted atop the small rise by the ancient storm. So it sat
quietly dying and contemplating the world around it. There were no regrets. By
rights it should never have reached maturity, much less lived a long and
healthy life. Trees were not in the habit of regretting anyway. It savored the
presence of the travelers, silently delighting in the pleasure they took from
the shade it provided against the hot sun, the support it gave to their tired,
sweaty backs, and the use they made of the seeds that lay scattered all about.
Most creatures found those seeds delicious, and these visitors were no
exception, though there was one among them who refused absolutely to partake
of the free feast. Apparently, despite the protein they contained, such
vegetable matter was not to its liking. No matter. Its companions gorged
themselves. What they did not eat on the spot they gathered up and packed away
for future consumption.
All this activity the tree marked through its receptive roots, glad of active
company on a scale it could easily sense. It had been a hale and robust life,
but a lonely one. Unlike many of the tree's visitors, these travelers were
among those who employed a language. This was normal, since all motile
visitors possessed a means for communicating among themselves. The insects
used touch and smell, the birds song and wing, but spoken language was of the
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]