Environmental Tales

Story 1: A tree’s purpose

Gnarled, peeling but still beautiful. It stands there upright, proudly showing off its leaves. This tree has seen so much. Many creatures depend on it. The tiny insects that endeavor to climb its rough bark every day in source of food, the animals that need its fresh and rich oxygen, the birds that nest within its soft, lush leaves. How can one thing be so important? This tree has harbored so many creatures, all different sizes, shapes and colors. It is the source to all things beautiful. And then one day, far, far from now it will collapse and spill all its sweet, dry sap and its small important seeds. The seeds that will one day stand just as proud, that will let birds' nest, people's breath and animals eat. It will be an image, and inspiration, a lifeline, a piece of beauty.

‘Every tree has its purpose and once it is gone, the first domino has begun to the fall’ – Emily Thompson

Story 2: Stories

I breathe in the fresh spring breeze. The chatter of students swirls around me, so close, yet so far away. Beyond the usual gossip of teenagers, a soft swishing of leaves catches my attention. Isn’t it strange, how humans have neglected nature? We think ourselves superior to our brothers, whom we have once shared a nest with, yet now we refer to them lowly as animals. I reach out towards the tree, and gently touch its rough trunk. This tree has served as a refuge for so many. Ants nestling beneath its bark, students resting beneath its shade... It looks younger than the trees standing next to it, yet it has seen so much, felt so much. I run my fingers across the pealing bark, feeling the cracks and edges. Every single little crack holds a story of its own within itself. Everyone has a story. And I am still writing.

“Every tree has a story. Don’t let it come to an untimely end.” -Lilla Bota

Story 3: Stop for once and listen

Whirlwinds cruise on the frigid air. Leaves are swirling through the air. Droplets falling to the ground one by one. I sit in the downfall, motionless, mesmerized by the unique scent of petrichor. A sense of pure clarity surrounds me and I gaze quietly, not a thought through my mind, not a worry, at the breath-taking nature around me. However, it isn't always like this. Air, acidic and putrid strangles me almost every day. It is rare for me to enjoy myself as I do when the rain disperses the bitter scent. I remember once, the air was clean and pure, and animals lived in harmony in their natural way of survival. Then, one of my most brilliant creations rebelled against me. Homo sapiens. Factories, cars, buses have contaminated my world. Grief and sorrow grip me when I feel yet another gap in the ozone layer. They have cut down my trees and destroyed my air, demolished the habitats I worked to create and drove some of my most beloved creatures to near extinction. Every day, I am a step closer to death.

However painful it is, time and time again, I sit and listen to my chattering creations.

“Mel, have you gone to the shop yet?”

“No, not yet don’t worry, I’ll do it!!”

They chatter and bicker on the most conventional, meaningless topics. How are they capable of the destruction they have caused? At times, I chuckle at the ludicrousness they possess. With understanding, would come their awakening. What they lack, is comprehension. They don’t understand the true meaning of the world. Categorizing this as a philosophical, unanswerable question. Had they ever stopped to listen, had they ever stopped to smell and taste the scent of the forest, the rejoicing vales, or even a field of flowers, they would understand.

“Nature always has a way of letting us know, all we have to do is listen.” – C

Story 4: Keep Reaching

Reaching, reaching but not grasping, like a toddler reaching for its mother’s arms. Its long hopeful branch stretches far across the sky longing to hold onto another. The roots dig and burrow themselves into the sweet soil, gathering energy to keep reaching; keep trying. She can see him, standing, leaning. The wind whips her leaves back. She sways, she swishes; crying out for him to hold her. Only a distance of nothing separates them. Every bark peeled off her, every winter’s cold, shuddering days is a pain she cannot share with him. Every season is a season without him, every bare branch is a bare branch not touching his. Every falling leaf reminds her of his missing. Birds nest within her leaves in pairs, until a crack and pop and a beak or two. Ants endeavour up her spine in search of food for their partner, their match. But where was hers? Across a distance that seemed heart-breaking to travel. Maybe one day they will touch. Maybe. A piercing screech fills the unbroken air. A loud rumbling means chaos. A sharp pain digs in her side. She looks up and sees her love. Her love that she has spent her whole life trying to reach. Then the earth comes closer as she topples downwards. He looks at her and brings his leaves closer as they share their first and last kiss. A sweet, sharp kiss. A kiss that fills all her dreams. She sees the ground rushing towards her. She closes her eyes and hears his whistle of goodbye. She lands softly in the mud with a smile on her face.

‘Every tree deserves its kiss, but not with the mud’ – Emily Thompson

Story 5: Slow Down

The noise of cars speeding across the highway. The chatter of people hurrying from one place to another. The world is fast. And if you don’t keep up, they’ll leave you behind. Have you ever tried just stopping and listening? Closing your eyes and taking the moment in? Listening to the breeze lazily swishing past the bushes and dancing in your hair. Hearing the soft splashing of water as it hits the pavement. Breathing in the cold and crisp air, tinted with the smell of freshly mowed grass and rain. Feeling the damp grass beneath your foot, as it tenderly strokes your toes. Just taking a second to capture the moment, as perfect as it is. And then the moment is gone. Vanished like a vision of hope. But it was there, and that’s enough.

“Slow down, and take the moment in. Life is too short.” -Lilla Bota

Story 6-Save the bees

Wings buzzing, colours striking. These wonderful, hard-working creatures. They produce honey and collect nectar and pollen for their hives. They dance in order to communicate. Devoted and determined they are, ready to protect and give their life for their colony. However, bees have begun facing challenges far greater than anything they have faced before: Humans.

In fact, a bee is traveling through the air at this very moment, scouring for flowers with remaining pollen. It glides through the air with an elegance and assiduity that can only be comparable to the diligent ants. It finds a field of claret roses, amber begonias, the largest and most ornate dahlias and a myriad more. The bee decides to collect as much pollen as it can fit on its hind legs. After an extremely successful search, the bee, triumphant, returns to its hive. When it is mere meters away, it collapses. It falls to the ground, scattering the pollen accumulated on the dusty ground. The bee, active only moments before, stripped of life, never to awake again. The flowers, beautiful and healthy, had poisoned it. The hive has lost one worker, but this is only the beginning. The flowers are still on the field, spreading their sweet and deadly fragrance, attracting bees with their poison fumes and inviting them to the kiss of death.

Millions of bees have fallen and still are, every day.

“Bees hold a mirror up to society. The only difference, is that a human being is exempt from worrying about their next meal being their last.”-C