Between the Trees

photo by arantxa villa

Between the Trees

by fourth year marilyn cottom

It was still dark when you left your home, the dew on the fallen leaves glistening like diamonds in the streetlight. You clipped your dog’s leash to his collar—laughing as he ran in excited circles around you—and made your way to the hiking trails at the park near the end of your neighborhood. 

There was a sudden hush as you stepped through the trees, as though the forest itself was drawing in breath. In the dim morning light, the world seemed to be painted in muted brown, red, gold, and green, broken only by the slate gray of the sky. Toadstools had sprung up along the sides of the trail in the night, their white scales bright as fresh snow. Your dog sniffed one, curious, and you hurriedly pulled him away before he could decide to take a bite. 

As you walked, you noticed the faint sound of rushing water. You paused with a frown. A river ran through the south part of the park, but you were in the northernmost section, and you knew for a fact that this trail went nowhere near the river. However, as you continued walking, the sound grew louder, and as you rounded the corner you saw why. 

There, where there had previously been nothing but a handful of trees and shrubs, was a small pond, fed by a calm, clear waterfall. Nestled between trees hung thick with garlands of ivy, the entirety of the pond seemed to glow a soft, luminous green. Wildflowers in a dazzling array of colors crowded around the banks, and lily pads and aquatic flowers in porcelain and pale pink dotted the mirrored surface of the water. 

This was not, however, what had caught your attention. Rather, you were focused on the glowing figures floating above the water. Brilliant gold and far too large to be fireflies, the tiny figures rose and fell gracefully through the air, almost as though they were dancing. They glowed too brightly to truly make out their form, but for a moment, as one twirled downward through the air, you could have sworn you saw it extend a tiny foot to push off the surface of the moss-covered stone beneath. You stood motionless, transfixed by the scene before you. 

The spell was broken by a tug at the leash still loosely grasped in your hand. Your dog had caught sight of a frog at the edge of the pond and was barreling towards it, leaving you no choice but to follow. As you stepped forward, a twig snapped beneath your shoe. 

The soft golden glow that had permeated the tiny pond vanished. As you dug your heels into the earth to keep your dog from tormenting the poor frog further, you glanced up to see the air devoid of tiny flying figures, the colors of the pond strangely dulled in their absence. Your dog, having lost interest in the frog, was nosing around the wildflowers without a care in the world. 

You smiled and shook your head, bending down to bury your hand in his soft fur. Turning back to the water, you plucked a single, cream colored water lily growing close to the bank. You would be back here—although, you supposed, whether the pond would still be here when you did was another matter entirely. Even so, it seemed fitting to have something to remember this by.