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Local Writers Showcase: Madelyn Krystal Hill

Local Writers Showcase: Madelyn Krystal Hill

This is our showcase of local fiction writers. It is the first of our weekly publication of locally written short stories that will be published every Sunday. This week we have great work from a talented local writer.

Photo via Flickr/Harry Wood.
Photo via Flickr/Harry Wood.

The Fifth Season by Madelyn Krystal Hill

Once upon a time in the Silver Forest, there lived a handsome, sturdy tree of fine lineage.  But the tree just wouldn’t grow and its branches remained bare. Dendrologists and rangers came from miles around to learn why a tree with such great potential stood bare and dormant, emanating a void which made even the mountains cry.

Until one evening, the tree was kissed by a wintry breeze and unexpectedly awakened.  An observant ranger nearby who knew the history of the tree, stood in awe as he watched the tree yawn. Pondering aloud, the ranger remarked: “Why would a tree such as you remain bare?”

Much to his amazement, the tree responded:

‘There is no reason to open my eyes for the sky is black.
The rippling sound of the waves cannot be heard for the river cross the bend is dry.
Even the oysters have vanished.
Why should I allow my branches to flower when they fall off and die amidst their own perfume?
Why should my arms reach out only to be chopped off by the tree surgeons?
There are not even any birds for song….
‘There is no point”, continued the tree, ‘I have been placed here and shall remain as time passes.  Should I choose to remain dormant, I bother no one.  I no longer seek the birds so I shall not be sad that I find no song.’

The young ranger looked upon the tree with a tear in his eye and a smile upon his lips.  He then replied: “You have given up too soon and lay dormant for too long.  In the silver forest, there is the gift of four seasons.  Do you not realize that:

The sky is black for it is night time ’til dawn.
The birds have flown south for winter, soon to return with lovelier melodies than before.
The oysters have disappeared from sight to web beautiful new pearls.
And when your leaves fall off, they grow back with the changing seasons.
When your branches are used for paper, you have self-worth and purpose.
The river seems barren for the tide has set in.”

With an outpour of words, the ranger continued:

“You may not understand the cycle of your life.  There is a rhythm in which we need to let go what is over and permit what begins anew.  With the end of each season, there paves a way for isolation, reflection, renewal, change and hope. But you have designed a fifth season in which you have closed your eyes and remained.  It only appears to be safe but is not real.  The Silver Forest belongs to four seasons and shall be enriched with each one that passes.  Should any seasons’ purpose not seem fair, it is only in the seeming.”

After listening, the tree went back to sleep.
But this time, with one eye opened….
so it wouldn’t miss the dawn, when it comes……

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If you would like to submit your work of fiction or poetry for publication on Sheepshead Bites, then send it to editor@sheepsheadbites.com.