The tree had felt it
To the humans that walked past the old Maple, it was hardly noticeable. Their lives are too busy with the mounting minutiae of life to notice the pain she masked with her golden display of autumn.
An article by Tash Acres earthruns
The tree had felt it. She could feel the disease taking hold.
Water, once free-flowing from her roots to her shoots, was becoming harder to pump around her vast trunk. She couldn’t put a word to it – she was, after all, a tree, but she felt less ‘alive’. The usual zap wasn’t in her sap. Cankers formed on her once proud branches.
To the humans that walked past the old Maple, it was hardly noticeable. Their lives are too busy with the mounting minutiae of life to notice the pain she masked with her golden display of autumn. Had they looked up from their phones, they’d have seen her bloom gold just a bit earlier than the other trees.
But the surrounding trees knew well. They’d seen the tell-tale signs in her abundance of samaras – the fabulous helicopter seeds the kids love to chase. So many, so early in the season, the forest knew then that she was struggling. They knew that some trees, when facing stress, would put everything they’d got into the next generation. She was living for a future she may not see.
She’d sent out distress messages warning the others of the Anthracnose, the fungal disease that was weakening her, and they, in turn, had been supporting her where they could – sharing their nutrients through the mycorrhizal network deep underground whilst shading young trees and boosting their own immune systems—a community effort to face tough times.
Whether the Maple had known through the wisdom passed down from the ancient forest fellowship or whether it was pure instinct intrinsic to survival, her efforts – from reaching out and asking for help to the early shedding of leaves she couldn’t support – would not be in vain.
As winter approached, the fungus’s advances slowed to a standstill – unable to withstand the cold. All the while, the rich nutrients being shared by her friends fed her soul. Slowly but surely, giving her strength. Whilst she rested. Took her time. Winter is vital to a forest’s soul—a chance to recharge. Readying for the spring, when the Maple could grow again. Create new, healthier shoots, free from the fungus, and she’d shine. Oh my, she’d shine. Stand tall. Reach for the skies.
The Maple would see another summer.
