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With a gentle breath, Spring embraces us. At times he is early, at times he is late, but he arrives, nonetheless. The softer than silk brush of his subtle honey palm and his brilliant smile of untouched light melts the bitter white away. Dancing rays of warmth lead bold, emerald, green to penetrate lonely layers of cold. With mellow, trickling whispers, the residents of our small world thrust themselves forward. His spirited, lively eyes bring the young out from hiding with a joyous dance of freedom. The Black Bird of Red Wings sings her eternal melody, beckoning friends and enemies alike to join her. Kaleidoscopes of colours emerge daringly, accompanied by the valiant assortments of precious, rainbow bulbs. Critters long hidden in silent hubs of warmth take to the birth of emerald below; a hasty race for survival. Trees whisper with the shuffle of leaves. Insects indulge in incessant chatter. Small animals munch on delectable berries of endless colour, gifted to them by Silent Bushes. An ocean of crisp scents embraces our home, with its mellow sweetness gripped to our tongues. Carnivorous pits of predators open lustrous jewel eyes. The hunt begins. An orange tide pushes itself forward into the sky above.
Peals of Thunder enveloped the grey velvet skies. Sun was ordered to conceal herself. Biting wind gnawed at our bodies, a vicious cold leaving us trembling. Numerous retreated to the fleeting warmth of the Trees, or, scurried sizeable distances for the lowing Caverns in the forest mountains. The pitter patter returns to the woodlands with sporadic jabs of water greeting our skin. Fierce Black Bear and Watching Mountain Lion lead their young to shelter. Squirrel’s offspring are steered blindly to the looming trees above. Amongst the ruin, Spring was found with closed eyes, draped against Quiet Bushes. His joyous face was pale as Death himself, drained of all emotion and thought. All that was left was the painful suffocating throb in his chest, to which he clutched, with his now frail hand in a meagre attempt to wrench away the numbness that consumed him. His cherry red lips were stolen and replaced by a sick dullness. Spring shifted his weight toward his steady, tenacious companion.
“Grant me your comfort,” he whispered with his honey-sweet voice, taking in a shaky breath and pressing his forehead against the Aged Sequoia, “please old friend.”
A single sapphire tear flowed down his transcendent face. Spring seemed to be held captive by a bitter pain today.
Sunlight beat down on our backs. A heavy sweltering heat pressed own upon us. Insects no larger than my hoof scurried along mossy floors, some still left quivering in mourning for the death of their friends. Gopher Snakes laid on scorching rocks in an obligated resignation. With a violent rush Spring descended from the air. Poor Little Bobcat whimpered and scurried to his dear friend Redwood Tree, shivering in his roost. Powerful Red Tree instinctually recoiled, shuddering at the unfamiliar strength of Springs emotions. The symphonies of the Tanagers were silenced, leaving a hollow emptiness in our skies.
Spring’s once gentle footsteps were akin to stampede. Previously, smooth gold arms were now decorated with fresh red streaks; palms dented with pink crescents. His eyes were a blank, hollow green and jaw was clenched fiercely so that the gears of grinding teeth were heard with each demanding stride. The skin on his bare legs was patched and stripped of its honey, leaving a white liquid oozing in its absence. His fingertips were skilfully brushed with a ruby red. Spring perspired deftly into his soft white robes. The thick suffocating heat continued to beat down upon the forest with every breath Spring took in an unforgiving rage.
I am the peaceful one of our home. Many of my brethren approach me for consolation, as the protection of the resilient trees and quiet attitudes of my people welcome them. They are correct. We are the righteous of this forest, the goodness that holds all together. Had we not existed, surely, they would have trampled on all our homes in a barbaric vigour. A merciless stampede for power. Yes, I stand for all residents of our home. I silence the roars of the beings harbouring endless primal urges. I hush the small one’s unimportant needs. Spring asks me of the needs of his forest, he is our protector, our saviour, a deity of true beauty.
The Aged Sequoia whispered to us. Long ago, Spring lost one he loved so dearly to the gentle cold grasps of Death. Our Beloved Deity had unprecedented powers, but Death operated alone and took orders from no soul. He understood the true reason Spring loved us, in honour of this being who against all odds captured the energetic green eyes of Spring and held them with unbridled stubbornness. The pressing curiosity of the identity of this peculiar creature weighed down on us all. I, the Peaceful Mule Deer, dared to present the unasked.
“Never have I seen the definition of perfection before her. Her soul itself was weaved of pure light, as though God had acknowledged and erased every sin from her forgiving heart. Her beauty was unrivalled and was a creature I have never been graced to see again, except in Spring himself. Her flaws were beautiful in their imperfection, carefully chosen and placed by an artist. Incandescent with passion, she healed the pains of the living that surrounded her with the sincerest smile. In her eyes laid eternal reassurance, the ever-present lover and protector of all. The kindness she shared was of no burden, only a wonderful compassion in her acute awareness of the vulnerabilities of others, which could only be born through pure determination in the depths of misery. In her stance, it seemed she faced the entirely of our world, in all its intensity, yet showed no sign of the burden she held. Truly, she was a flower that was constantly in blossom. Spring called her Human.”
I, the Mule Deer, gather that Springs eternal solitude; his immortal grief and fury, bred this horrible infliction of his unending mourning upon his forest, his soul constantly running on the time of the past; memories, long lost in the eternal spirals of existence but never forgotten.