May 4 2019
War Trees
(A side conversation, edited out of The Human Scale)
“You know how sometimes, in a grove of oak trees,” Indy began as though they had already been chatting, “sometimes there are little groups of smaller oaks clumped together? I mean, there might be lots of giant oaks in the grove, of such size as would take two or three people to touch hands around the trunk. But then every so often you will find a clump of smaller ones, and these will always be arranged in a ring. You’ve seen this?” Jill wasn’t sure, but nodded anyway, and Indy continued, “This happens when one of the big trees has been cut down. Fifty years ago, or maybe a hundred. Just long enough for some branches to form around the remaining stump, and those branches to eventually grow into trees. That’s why they form little rings. The stump may be long gone now, leaving only a little circle of sister oaks.”
Jill realized that there were trees outside like this, on the property. “Yes,” she said, “that makes sense.”
“Sometimes, you will see a forest composed only of such tree-rings. Ring after ring, easily mistaken for branching trunks, but really all growing from old stumps. A forest like that would have been, at some time in the past, completely razed. Lots of clear-cutting went on during the Gold Rush. Whole hillsides of nothing but stumps.” Indy paused, and added, “But now there are how many trees? Three, or even four of them for every one that was cut? Like a slow-motion hydra, over hundreds of years, many lifetimes, the forest multiplies in the face of injury.”
“Did you just read that?” Jill was looking at the stack of books on the coffee table, trying to see which it might have come from.
“No,” Indy said. “I don’t really know where that came from. It sounds like the kind of thing my mother would have told me, but I don’t recall her saying it.” He paused. “I think of it now, because it describes martyrdom, in a way. If the tree had lived, it would have grown old, and eventually fallen over. However, by being cut down, its power is multiplied.” Jill stared blankly, as though the room were on fire, and no one else was noticing.
“You’re telling me that Desirae’s death will be worth it,” Jill said, “is that what you mean?”
“No.” Indy was shaking his head. “Desirae is more powerful now that she is gone than she was while she carried the torch for us. Now her plans have been picked up by a mob of people who will storm the castle in her name. They will probably make a difference. In fact, this generation of activists will likely change everything. But, no, it’s not ‘worth it.’ It isn’t, in the same that the little rings of oaks have not replaced the groves. The old forest is gone, it is not coming back. The new forest remains to be seen. It’s different. It’s unstoppable. It’s a miracle. It’s a radical evolution, and an overwhelming wave of progress. It’s many things, but there is no worth here, no value in conflict.” Indy paused. “There is no trade, no exchange. More trees do not make more value. The river only flows one way.”
Jill started to speak, then stopped. After several minutes of contemplation, she said, “I’m going home.”
Indy nodded. “Good call.” He stirred the embers of the fire a bit and closed the damper. He gathered the empty teacups from the coffee table and followed Jill out of the room in silence.
Jan 27 2021
The Two Hedgehogs
Once upon a time, there were two hedgehogs. One was tall, the other was quick, and both enjoyed eating very much. Quick Hedgehog would share recipes with Tall Hedgehog, who would say things like, “That sounds pretty cool, but I need the measurements if I am going to make it.” Other times, Tall would bring food to Quick’s house, and Quick would say, “This is technically pretty good, but your presentation sucks!”
The two hedgehogs loved each other’s company and discovered that they each learned a lot from cooking and eating together. When Quick moved to a city far away, Tall was lost for a time. But not for long – the two hedgehogs always compared notes and continued to share their recipes by mail. Both of them knew that this was not just about cooking. Both of them knew that, as long as they each believed in each other, Everything would be Ok.
Ten years went by. Then another ten years. And then another. In three decades, the two hedgehogs had each earned a few grey hairs, and had many adventures. Quick became a farmer, because that’s what he had always been anyway. Tall became an engineer, for the very same reason. You see, when Everything is going to be Ok, you will eventually find out what you already are, and you will become that. The two hedgehogs learned this, together, in separate parts of the world.
One day, Tall received a letter from his hedgehog friend. Only it wasn’t his friend, it was only a dream of his friend (don’t try and figure that out – this is just a story, ok?) In Quick’s dream, we can see Quick climbing a tree in his backyard, and telling us there are apples, just out of reach, and that he wanted them for a pie. “What kind of pie?” asked the Tall Hedgehog. Quick just looked down, smiled, and said, “If I really have to explain, you’ll never understand.”
Once again, Tall was impressed with Quick’s uncanny brilliance, and the farmer’s intuition that had always evaded Tall’s engineering mind. Tall Hedgehog thought for a moment, then turned around to face the tree Quick had been climbing. Tall Hedgehog started to say, “Apple pie! You want the apples for apple pie!” But even as he opened his mouth, Quick had climbed higher, and higher, and higher – until he had passed the top of the tree and disappeared.
That was the last time we saw Quick. Some of us will wonder if he found the apples he needed for his apple pie. For Tall Hedgehog, there remains the never-ending questions: how many apples? What kind? What are the measurements for the other ingredients? How can I ever get this right without the colorful creativity of Quick Hedgehog?
But even as these questions are asked, the answers are right at hand: If you learn to believe in someone when they’re close to you, you will find that you can still believe in them when they are far away. Even so, if you know someone believes in you to your face, you must know that they still believe in you when they’re gone.
Thank you for believing in me, Quick Hedgehog.
Warm regards,
Tall Hedgehog
By andybrannan • Fiction, Stories • 0