Neither eyes nor hearts bore witness on the rough eve that ancient tree, gowned in green and veiled by rain, finally fell, though the forest seemed to reverberate long after it had come to rest. A rotting book cover floated free, peridot crystal dropped away and tiny bone fragments settled on the creek bed.
A lissom, red-tressed figure, streaking barefoot through the forest at gilded dawn, was first to chance upon the Green Woman’s Grove, where new sunbeams shafted now through draping mist.
Fable stood a moment, perplexed by the gaping new hole in the forest ceiling. Above her, the wind tossed raindrops, sparkling, from leaves. In the droplets, a rainbow glory had appeared.
Her eyes drifted lower then, to the Green Woman herself. Across the creek she lay now, like a bridge between two lands.
Fable dropped to her knees, hands crossing at her chest, a sob catching in her throat.
‘Oh, Mama’
Light flamed in the understory, and on the serpent wended, through the slumbering vale.