Some mornings, I wake up standing there, always in the same place deep in this luminescent forest. This has been happening every now and then ever since the end of summer, or rather the beginning of fall. The memories of the dreams I make before waking up in the middle of iridescent trees fade away as soon as I open my eyes. As I try to hold onto the evanescent memories of what felt like regretful dreams, all that remains is but a sense of profound loss.

Usually, when I wake up in the middle of the forest, I spend the whole day at the exact same place without moving an inch. I stand there on my foot firmly connected to the ground. Then I breathe the fresh and humid air that always floats in the morning. For some reason, I am not bored doing nothing. Whether the sun shines bright or whether rain is pouring down, I don’t mind standing there and taking the time to enjoy this new fantastic environment that I had the luck to stumble upon.

The forest counts many old and gigantic trees. Over time, these trees have grown to be similar to people in that each of them seems to express something. Every tree is standing in certain poses. For example the tree that is on my right, with its two strong branches growing on both sides upwards, looks like it is using both arms to tell a good story. The tree that is my left looks like it is taking a nap because it is in a leaning position.

When it rains, a great number of small animals such as rabbits and fawns often look for protection under my neighbors. I won’t deny that the sleepy-looking tree is the one that attracts the most guests. As for myself, I was surprised when rabbits also started looking for a shelter under my small wing. I like these rainy days the most in the forest. With every small life that is swarming all around and each falling raindrop that creates a delicate sound as it crushes onto a ground, the forest offers the most entrancing spectacle. Even the gentle giants around me join this show that is full of life.

People from the village nearby rarely visit the forest. They systematically ignore my existence, I think that the word has been passed about me being a stranger whose suspicious activities had to be shunned. Luckily, I’m now used to living with the environment around me and I don’t require the company of humans anymore. My new neighbors are more reliable and can be trusted. We help each other as we take care of each other when things aren’t going so well for one of us.

I don’t dream as often as before. But conversely, each dream had become more and more vivid as seasons and years went by. The memory of what happened in the dreams became clearer. These dreams showed a miserable woman who had been hunt down by frantic people from the village nearby. They said that, according to the sacred law bestowed by their religion, I was convicted guilty of witchcraft to summon the Demon, while all I had done was living alone as an outcast outside the village. The witch hunt had come forth and groups of brave people were pursuing me. I luckily succeeded in taking refuge in a forest. But during the hunt, I was deeply wounded and stopped in order to take a rest between two enormous protectors, a story-telling tree and a nap-taking tree.

Today, I’m entering my 100th autumn. I’m still spending my days in the exact same place between those two trees and others who have become my dearest partners and friends. I’ve been able to grow five more strong arms. Strangely, I no longer dream. But now, it’s my turn to protect the small animals and fellow growing trees. Well, what is this sound that I hear? Isn’t it the sound of the first raindrops that cheerfully announce the beginning of an delightful day?

• Dream
• Purpose
• Society
• Rain
• Shelter
• Life