Page 75 - Dark Matter:Women Witnessing Issue #3 - December 2015

Dark Matter: Women Witnessing - December, 2015 Issue #3 - EXTINCTION / DEVOTION

Tree Holocaust

Sara Wright

Almost 30 years ago, I stepped out of the car in pouring rain and fog so thick it enveloped me instantly

in a misty shroud. I let the roaring brook guide me to the edge of the field where I peered down at a red

deer who raised his new rack of moss-covered antlers to meet my gaze. We stared at each other in

mutual wonder as water flooded the emerald banks of this sinuous mountain brook. Although the rest of

the landscape was obliterated by fog, I understood that this piece of earth knew me in some

inexplicable way, and was calling me home.

Three months later this patch of woods and

brook with its field overlooking the

mountains became mine. From the

beginning the land held and spoke to me

even as I gathered sweet summer berries.

Here under my feet pulsated the body of

the mother I had never known. Although

She remained invisible, I knew I was loved

because I could sense Her as I touched

each plant, flower and tree, took in each

breath of clear mountain air, or wandered over the steep granite speckled field to visit with the foxes

near their den. The very next year I constructed a very small twelve by eight foot camp in the woods

next to the brook and fifteen years later built the small log cabin in which I have lived ever since.

One day driving home from town that first summer I felt compelled to explore a mountainous area that

had been brutally logged. Baffled as to why I felt so driven to get close to this tree holocaust, I climbed

the steep hill, parked the car, got out, and almost immediately stumbled and fell; I could barely manage

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