Family Tree

In the dawn of the fall season, my family and I set our offspring free to nestle in the dirt. Our seeds slept in pine cones; the heat of a fire would allow the cones to dry out, open up, and release the seeds. Only then, would they grow. 

Maybe someday, the seedlings would grow as tall as us. Maybe, they could be as old as we were. My lineage traced back so long ago that the stars liked to whisper of our ancestors. 

When I had been a mere sapling, an old star had rustled my branches and fed me sweet secrets. It had coaxed me with the knowledge that my family had existed since the beginning of time itself. Us, Sequoia Sempervirens - Redwood trees. Even as a sapling, I was not surprised. Within the Earth, our roots wove a tapestry that all stepped upon. Tallest amongst all, our sight spanned the breadth of the woodland to beyond. 

One night of full moon, Mother Tree suddenly perked up from her rest.

“What is it?” my siblings and I questioned.  

Tensely, Mother Tree gestured towards the ground. 

“Feel,” she whispered. 

Soon, I felt it. A low rumble in the dirt shook my roots ever so slightly. An earthquake? They were uncommon around here. Stiffly, we stood until the sun awakened, and made out the silhouettes on the horizon. A horde of large creatures rolled on circular-shaped legs, moving towards my family. Inside of each of them perched the two-legged, lanky and disjointed. Humans. Could it be? 

Decades ago, I had pestered the stars to tell me tales of the humans. Who were they? What did they do? Eventually, an old star gave in to my pleas. To my heartwood, it whispered tales that clung to my bark like spiderwebs. That was how I came to know of the spreading devastation that humans could create, and of the misery they brought to the great Gaia, goddess of Earth. 

Even so, I had never seen humans before. Neither had any other members of my family. I never would have imagined the astute gleam of their eyes. It made my leaves quiver, some falling to the dirt. What did this mean for us? 

I watched the humans rumble into the woodland. Their unnerving creatures relentlessly tore a path through the brazen bush. Hour after hour, the shaking of the ground increased as the humans neared my home. Eventually, the sky darkened. In the midst of the gloom, a tiny speck hurtled towards me and perched upon my branch. It was my friend, my avian confidante: the wise robin.

“You made it,” I said. 

“Of course I made it. I come here every moon to check in on you,” she twittered.

“Do you feel it, the rumble?” I asked her quietly. Her eyes cast downwards as she nodded.

“I yearn to fly up to the humans, all of them,” she chittered angrily. “With my beak, I shall peck out their eyes and render them useless.” 

“Dear friend, don’t worry me so. Your safety is more important than silly vengeance,” I said to her, carefully laying out my words. 

“No. I only tell you this because I am afraid that mother Gaia made… a grave mistake,” she burst out, agitatedly flapping her wings. “Have you ever looked into their eyes? Why give humans vision, when they cannot see us, and the beauty of the Earth?”

“Yes, it is a mystery,” I admitted.

Before long, we exchanged a goodbye. 

“Stay strong, my friend.” my friend chirped, her bright eyes flashing to look back once more. She leapt off the twig of my branch and began to travel into the distant abyss. 

Watching her go, I stood trapped to the ground. My roots were spread hundreds of feet wide under the surface, weaved with those of my kin. My family of Redwoods did not have wings that could spread to carry us. Though our beauty stood tall and graceful, leaves were not meant to be weapons. Nor were roots that traversed the ground. I did not hunt others, but instead relied on the gentle touch of the Sun to sustain me. The soft caress of the wind was the only thing that could sway me.

And so, there was nothing I could do when the humans approached me, their gleaming eyes staring straight at me. It seemed that I had run out of time to contemplate the situation.

I was there, and there, I fell. 

A deafening roar echoed throughout the forest as my trunk snapped. My roots plunged away from those of my family as they were pulled upwards from the force of the machine’s strike. I slammed onto the billowing piles of dirt. Mother Tree wailed in disbelief. 

Around me, I heard my other family members fall in unison, felt the agony of my siblings as they collapsed to the ground. I tried my best to hold onto my consciousness- and yet-I felt it begin to drain. Is this what the end feels like? 

A prickle of heat skipped in the air. Quickly, it seemed to blossom into a fierce ravage, summoning smoke and embers to its aid. Fire? Fire upon the wood. Everything would be gone. The present. Our past, and our future. Our Family Tree. What would happen to it? 

Mother Tree murmured from beside me on the ground. “Thank god. We are saved.”  

What did she mean? 

“Mother. Do you not feel the destruction?” I asked her, hysterical. 

“The seeds,” she whispered. “Have you forgotten about our seeds?” she asked. 

Oh. Oh. Bless Mother Gaia, I’d forgotten about our seeds. If the fire was fierce enough, it would lick open the cones of our seedlings, guiding them out to grow. I almost wept from relief. Our seeds would live.

In the distance, a speck flew towards me. The robin. She landed beside my trunk, unaffected by the blaze surrounding my body. 

“Dear friend, don't fret,” she said to me. “When you are gone, I shall remain overseeing the forest.” 

“You? How?” I asked, desperate. 

My friend stared at me. For a second, her eyes looked strange, a tint of something I had never noticed before. They didn’t look like eyes that belonged to the body of a robin.

“Mother Gaia?” I asked in disbelief.

The robin shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Yes, it is I.” 

I lay on the Earth, the world spinning. My consciousness was fading away. 

“Mother Gaia, I fear for my family.” 

“My friend, have faith in your offspring. The fire the humans have spread has unknowingly allowed your seeds to sprout. As generations of your family have, they will oversee the forest… I shall say, it is a cursed blessing.” 

Whispers of her words danced around my body, shriveled and torn apart. Suddenly, a giant claw grasped my trunk and lifted me up. The humans were taking me away. 

Dangling in the air as I had never before, my last view was of my home before I surrendered to the wretched embrace of my fate. Darkness overcame me. —---------

The sun shone upon the Earth. Invitingly warm, it coaxed a sapling to rise from dark ashes. On its stem was the weight of its ancestors. Weaved around its roots was a tapestry that depicted its family tree. My family tree. 

Regardless of all, the small tree stretched into this cursed blessing of a world. 

BY SOPHIA DU

‌