this post is inspired by the ending line of the call for The Festival of Trees #56: "Try squeezing in a few minutes for trees in the wee hours, gaze on the garden in a new light (perhaps in those dim, star-lit predawn hours). Do you know what trees do at midnight?"
the question brought me back to an image i created in November, "Nightwood", and to a story i wrote in January. until now, i hadn't noticed that they belong. and that they both tell about trees at mightnight. here goes:
H.owl (or: Nightwood)
She sat in ant.icipation, watched a fire.fly. It was her first night vigil. By daylight, she had laughed the task away. I’m no cow.ard, she had stated.
She swallow.ed. Fact was, the night had a fourth, fur.ious dimension, there, next to the r.eal river. And just like her, the forest, so calm at noon, now was dealing with its own moving bear.ings.
notes / links:
- the image was first published in the winter-issue of MiCrow: "Void"
- the story was first published in the 52/250 issue: "animal behaviour" / H.owl
- the punctuation is inspired by poet Daniela Elza, who blogged about it in fractured words
- previous tree festival contributions: Guardian + falling + cutback/backcut