Fiction & Nature
Olive Trees and a Goat Boy
A fictional story set in Greece. On a mountain who spoke to me. But that’s another story…
What a find! When, thousands of years ago, people arrived in the Greek mountains of Parnonas, they found forests full of olive trees.
Just like that. Arisen.
With stems turned like corkscrews and fat olives that hide between the small leaves that do not fall in fall.
Thom walks from tree to tree. Now and then he puts his hand on the rough bark.
An ant climbs over the obstacle. Whenever an ant has decided about her path, no hand can stop her.
Thom laughs. Her little legs tickle.
At the back left, he meets a very old tree. Hollow. Lop-sided.
Thom feels how life flows through the stem. Shots of energy pulsate from crown to roots, from roots to crown. He cannot feel where the flow goes.
Solar tree? Lunar tree? He will look it up.
Although it’s very clear that this tree should not yet be discarded. She has many productive years left.
Kneeling, Thom removes his sneakers and socks. He stands on bare feet next to the tree. He closes his eyes.
Then he sees the goat man for the first time. Or rather, goat boy.
They will presumably be of the same age, at the edge of adulthood. The boy has horns, a large nose, and cheerful yellow eyes.
Pan. Thom just knows his name is Pan…
His feet need no shoes. His goat’s legs move easily over the sandy soil. He hides behind the olive tree and then shows his horned head from behind the stem.
His piercing eyes catch Thom’s.
He says: “When I blow life into an olive tree, I want her to root deeply.
And what do you do?
You weave ugly black hoses through the branches. They torture the tree drop by drop.
No wonder the tree keeps her roots high to catch every single drop.
You fools! You only look at the fruit. Whereas life is in her roots!”
“Healthy soil is what counts!”
The goat boy takes a deep breath:
“Drop — ir — ri — ga — tion. You fools!”
The way he pronounces the word gives every syllable the same urgent emphasis.
Indeed. It sounds stupid to Thoms’ ears. He knows nothing about olive trees. Maybe it’s time to learn?
Thom feels a gust of wind on his ears.
The image of the goat boy disappears like a blown-out candle.
A small waft of smoke curls through the olive branches.
Thom feels his bare feet firmly on the soil.
Rooting deep. Deeper and deeper…
Thank you, Mike, for adding your wise energy to my olive tree words. You haven’t met my mountain yet, but I’m sure you will be mesmerized…
Elisabeth Khan, Selma, Gurpreet Dhariwal, Terri DelCampo-Nelson, Chazza Fleming, Francesca Brandani, Aurora Eliam, CMP, Eliot Kersgaard, Bob Jasper, Amy Marley, you might like this one…
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