Short Story: Maple Tree

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Gaia looked upon the creatures, to which her body gave succor, with particular delight, appreciating each for their unique magic with which they blessed her, for all the beings of her world are magic, each in their own way.

As she looked about her, she could not help but smile at the beauty of biodiversity in all of her realms and climes. When her gaze passed over the ancient enchanted grove of the Elven folk, her All-seeing eyes fell upon a single seed pod of twins from a Maple tree clinging ever so slightly to their parent's branchling. She could sense the seedling twin's reluctance to let go and make the long drop to the ground, and feel the warm, loving encouragement their mother gave them to fly.

With not a sound the seedling twins …show more content…

As she listened, she began to understand that the Babbling brook spoke to no one in particular, but was enamored of the sound of its own voice.

So she listened as she soaked up its fresh water, always wriggling her root toes for a closer sip. She was always thirsty after a long day of soaking up the sun, warm on her thin limbs. She was even thirsty on the days when the gray clouds that got between her and the bright jewel in the sky showered her endlessly.

"Noisy things," she thought of the clouds, "and grumpy too. What have they to complain about? So dark they cannot see their silver lining. They're free to fly all across the sky while I am stuck here, not even close enough to take a long drink. Always having to sway this way and that just to get my fair share of the Sun, harumph," she belched.

"Perhaps you should not have been so hasty to land when you chose that spot. But, any closer and you might have been washed away in my waters," the Babbling brook chimed in. "I have carried many a seedling downstream to parts unknown that have never taken root in our mother, Gaia, but have decomposed and then returned to her for …show more content…

"No good can come of this, Mabel," he cawed, "you are a part of this Enchanted forest now, it is foolish to fly against the flock," he said, extending one wing back, indicating the forest at her back. "Why did you have to write such things?"

Nutasha the squirrel scampered up her trunk to sit on a branch and listen. Her eyes were wide and she twitched nervously as she always did. "I like her stories, they never made much sense the way everyone else told them, and everyone had their own version that changed with each retelling." Nutasha chewed her fingernails as if unaware she held an acorn in her other hand.

"I am content to stand by the truth of what I wrote. I will continue to write even if only the mountain and the oceans approve. I think that is my purpose, like it or not," she replied sleepily.

Absalom lifted into the air with a beat of his black wings and Nutasha squirreled her way inside a spacious knothole on Mabel's trunk just as a Thundersnow storm swept down the valley from the Mountains. The land settled beneath a crystal blanket that reflected the moonglow so well it lit the valley up as bright as day. And all was quiet but for the Weeping of the Willow who cried herself to

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