12-23-2020, 12:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-23-2020, 12:43 AM by Borderline.)
despite the overwhelming odds, tomorrow came
Things were falling into place. Yanhua was being a great father to Memorie, and things seemed less tense between us every day. I had made friends in Amarine and Lilliana. And Memorie was enjoying her life in Taiga with siblings and various other family members. I felt like I had made a second home for a second time in Taiga, but this time, it felt more real. It wasn’t tied to just one relationship that was fragile and tentative at best. Just as my child had found her family here among the redwoods, so too had I.
Not only that, but I felt more connected to the forest now than I had in the past. Memorie and I had spent a good deal of our time at the burn scar, which was now unrecognizable as the barren and dead wasteland I had first come to know. New life had sprouted everywhere, guided by our helping hands. Trees were now beginning to take off in spectacular fashion. With each new tree that Memorie and I breathed life into, we became more and more a part of the redwood forest.
I stand there now, among the budding trees and sprouting ferns, contentedly contemplating these new connections. Memorie was off wandering the forest on her own. With each day, she was growing more and more independent. It was bittersweet, but I knew it would happen. She was just such a vibrant soul that it was hard to keep her contained to my own whims. She wanted to explore and discover and make her own mark on the world–even though I had told her she was already making a mark in our work with the trees.
I close my eyes and breathe a deep sigh. Then several trees behind me groan and shift. Their limbs stretch out, while the tops reach higher.
The gift came easier and easier every day. It helped to have a lot of practice. Still, Memorie was better at it than I was. She seemed to have a gift for life, and not just with her flora revival. No matter what life throws at her, she always seems to rise above it. I am constantly telling her that she is an old soul, meant for something more–whether that is helping to heal Taiga or something even greater, we have yet to see, but I believe in her more than I have ever believed in anything before.
I look behind me, quite proud of the new pine needles that had sprouted. Then I shift my weight and start forward in a slow walk, traveling down a freshly beaten path through the new growth. There are sections of the forest that are slower to grow, places that held the more painful scars burnt deep into the earth. I travel through them, stopping occasionally to breathe new life into different areas.
There was no rhyme or reason to how Memorie and I had gone about regrowing the forest. We simply listened to the forest, which had ways of telling us.
I am roused from my silent reveries when a snap from behind startles me. I snap my head up and back around to look. “Hello?” I wait, my blue eyes scanning back and forth for anything amiss.
Not only that, but I felt more connected to the forest now than I had in the past. Memorie and I had spent a good deal of our time at the burn scar, which was now unrecognizable as the barren and dead wasteland I had first come to know. New life had sprouted everywhere, guided by our helping hands. Trees were now beginning to take off in spectacular fashion. With each new tree that Memorie and I breathed life into, we became more and more a part of the redwood forest.
I stand there now, among the budding trees and sprouting ferns, contentedly contemplating these new connections. Memorie was off wandering the forest on her own. With each day, she was growing more and more independent. It was bittersweet, but I knew it would happen. She was just such a vibrant soul that it was hard to keep her contained to my own whims. She wanted to explore and discover and make her own mark on the world–even though I had told her she was already making a mark in our work with the trees.
I close my eyes and breathe a deep sigh. Then several trees behind me groan and shift. Their limbs stretch out, while the tops reach higher.
The gift came easier and easier every day. It helped to have a lot of practice. Still, Memorie was better at it than I was. She seemed to have a gift for life, and not just with her flora revival. No matter what life throws at her, she always seems to rise above it. I am constantly telling her that she is an old soul, meant for something more–whether that is helping to heal Taiga or something even greater, we have yet to see, but I believe in her more than I have ever believed in anything before.
I look behind me, quite proud of the new pine needles that had sprouted. Then I shift my weight and start forward in a slow walk, traveling down a freshly beaten path through the new growth. There are sections of the forest that are slower to grow, places that held the more painful scars burnt deep into the earth. I travel through them, stopping occasionally to breathe new life into different areas.
There was no rhyme or reason to how Memorie and I had gone about regrowing the forest. We simply listened to the forest, which had ways of telling us.
I am roused from my silent reveries when a snap from behind startles me. I snap my head up and back around to look. “Hello?” I wait, my blue eyes scanning back and forth for anything amiss.
borderline
