The Watchers

The oak tree had stood for decades, watching people work the fields, go by in their cars, watching the seasons change. Its roots were solid, reaching deep into the earth. Giving everyone and everything around it a sense of stability and endurance.

Beyond the world of people, life was teeming within the oak tree. It had been home to generations of birds, insects, squirrels. It watched over fields where foxes lived in their dens. The farm that the oak tree sat on had a barn nearby, the tree watched over this as well. All of it was the trees to care for, to protect.

Occasionally the tree would have a visitor, an owl. He lived in the barn, and on certain nights when he was tired from hunting or just felt the urge, he would come to say hello to the old oak tree. He would fly and land on one of the tree’s branches, and give him news of the goings-on in the barn.

The tree loved to hear about the animals inside the barn. The owl told stories of a litter of kittens being born recently. The other day there was a lost piglet. The owl, hidden within the shadowy corners of the barn went unseen by those below him, but he heard and saw all. Much like the tree. The two shared this in common, they were both watchers.

The owl went on to tell the tree about two horses that had just arrived. They were sisters, one was friendly but the other one was angry. She neighed and winnowed so much that the other animals had a hard time sleeping. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to break free. The tree felt sorry for the horse who didn’t want to be in a barn, he had always known peace over what he was and where he was settled. He asked the owl what it was like to fly and see above them all.

The owl in response said, “I only know life from such a view, I have nothing else to compare it to.”

To which the tree said, “And I only know life from the point of view of an old oak tree, rooted and still.”

One day, as the farmer was putting the animals in the barn for the night, the wild horse who didn’t want to be in the barn broke free. She ran across the field away from the barn as far as she could go. The tree watched her do so, seeing how unhappy she was, and wishing her to be free. He thought of his friend the owl and how when he flew, he was seemed to be as free as the horse was when she ran.

For the first time in his long life, he wondered what it would be like to be elsewhere, to move, to see beyond these fields, the barn, and the road beyond that.

He watched as the farmer walked over to the field, then raised a hand as if to say never mind to the wild horse and left for the night. The tree watched as the horse ran through the pasture, she couldn’t go past the fence, and sadly she wasn’t really free at all. Yet, at least she wasn’t in the barn. The tree watched as she tried to get over the fence. This went on for a good part of the night, but she wasn’t able to, and eventually, she began to rest and be still for the night.

The wind began to stir, softly at first but then grew more strongly. As the hours of the evening grew to night the wind picked up more and more. Gusty at times. The animals in the barn grouped together to keep warm. The wind was cold and a driving rain soon began to fall. The wind made it slant downward and into every crack and crevice of the barn.

The oak tree noticed the family of robins who lived within his branches, their faces pressed under their wings, huddled together with their babies. He saw the squirrel that lived in another part of his branches equally trying to stay warm. He saw how all of the animals were like the ones in the barn, looking to him for shelter, stability, and protection. He willed his roots to stay strong and endure through the strong winds of the storm.

All through the night, he protected the life that was within his care. When morning came, the early sun lit up the wet fields, the tree saw that a portion of the fence had been torn down by the strong winds. The horse was free as she had wanted to be. He watched, later in the day as the farmer and his family went out to repair the fence.

That night his friend the owl flew over to say hello. The tree told the owl that the horse was gone into the night. “Maybe she will get to know what it is like to fly now.” Said the owl.

“How when she is but a horse?” The tree asked.

“I realized something, even though I only know life from the view of an owl, it doesn’t mean I cannot know a view of myself different than what I have always been. Last night during the storm, I came down from my home in the eaves and shadows. The animals could not see me, and they were afraid of the storm, they were not paying any attention to me. From the ground I learned how they see things, everything is very large, all you can see is what is right in front of you. I did not like it; I flew back up to my shadows. The horse didn’t like it either, she needed to be free, to see things from a different view. Now, in her own way she can fly.”

“The farmer will bring her back; she is not the first horse to run away.”

“Yes, perhaps, but she got to fly all the same.” The owl answered.

“I wanted to see things differently too, but being a tree, I could not run away. Yet, during the storm I also realized something. That I am more than I thought I was, I am providing a home for so many. I saw myself before as a watcher but now I see that I am much more. Life isn’t happening all around me, it is happening with me.”

The owl blinked, “You, my friend, are the heart and soul of this land, you will outlive us all. You are our wisdom keeper, a tale-teller for future generations. You are freer than any, for what you store within your bark and root will tell the story of us all.”