‘Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.’—Leo Buscaglia

Their footsteps echo with each step taken along the worn paths. Rough limestone woven with roots of the trees which surrounded them, every other step often muffled due to the vibrant verde moss that hugged the stones.

The woodland held an odd aura, one that gave you an uneasy feeling if you strayed too far from the designated route. The two people traversing this path, however, knew it like the back of their mitten clad hands, having spent almost a decade using the forest as an escape. The uneasy feeling being replaced by one of relief the further they wandered.

“You will never guess what Nathan said to me at work today? I couldn’t believe the cheek!” A tall, fairly pale woman with a dark buzz cut speaks. Her voice shrills against the silence of the forest. The other only gave her an inquisitive look, often the quieter of the two friends. “Really? Not even a guess?” She speaks again, this time a bit more exasperated. 

“You know I always get it wrong, Heather…” The other woman speaks now, her hair a bright ginger colour, the curls framing her rounder freckled face. Her voice barely made it through the thick woollen scarf which wrapped tight around her neck and chin.

“Well, seeing as though you don’t want to play my game today, Tee.” She emphasises her friend’s name, sending her an incredulous look. “Nathan said I spend too much time here, says there are better things to be doing with my evenings. I reckon he just doesn’t understand the peace of being surrounded by trees.” Heather sighs softly, a small puff of condensation dispersing into the cool air around them both. 

“Not even on a day like today? It’s bloody freezing, and it might even snow later. He probably just appreciates the warmth of his house.” Tee replies, her voice once again muffled by the scarf. Despite them both knowing Tee is right, neither stops to ponder their choice of being outside, their feet continuing to lead them along the path. “Do you remember what almost happened a few winters ago…”

“You mean the fabled sled accident of 2009?” Heather interrupts her friend, laughing softly as she speaks. “Yeah of course I remember, I broke my arm! Who forgets that?” She remembers the day as clearly as the next, even though it was more than a few winters ago. 

Both of them were running into the very same forest, struggling to keep their pace due to the thick layer of snow that lay on top of the usual stone path. Their sleds bouncing behind them, two fifteen-year-olds without a care in the world. Not yet fatigued by the attrition of life. They always headed to the northern side of the woods when it snowed, the hill was perfect for sledding, and it was always quiet. Most people wouldn’t want to risk the walk through the uneasy path in the snow. 

“I told you that you couldn’t make that jump!” Tee shakes her head as she speaks, she was always the sensible one of the two, Heather tended to always bring the wilder side out of her occasionally. 

One side of the hillside they sledded down was a lot rougher than the other due to a rockfall a few years prior. Neither could remember exactly how they ended up betting each other to do various tricks with their sleds, but they both remember the conversation leading up to Heather breaking her arm. The rocks which had fallen previously had finally been situated long enough to start blending with the grass and plants around it, creating a perfect ramp once the snow had settled on top.

“No, you said that if I made it, you would buy me lunch for a year!” Heather laughs louder now, her voice ricocheting off the trunks of the trees and carrying into the emptiness of the woods. “And don’t say that’s the same thing, because we both took English in school, you know it’s not!” She blurts out, noticing Tee’s mouth open to protest out of the corner of her eye. Which she quickly shuts after her friend’s beratement. 

They quickly fall into a comfortable silence as they continued along the path. The limestone slabs which originally covered the path slowly became sparse the further they ventured. Replaced by a rougher gravel, which occasionally becomes lost to thicker mud and clay. Their worn walking boots are an easy match for the now rougher ground, neither of them falters even for a second at the change; they welcome it.

*

The woodland held an odd aura, one that gave you an uneasy feeling if you strayed too far from the designated route. The two people traversing this path, however, knew it like the back of their mitten clad hands, having spent almost a decade using the forest as an escape.

*

The silence stretches for a while as they both enjoy the other’s company. It’s only when Heather comes to a halt, her head turned to the left, gaze locked on something just past the closest tree. Tee doesn’t have to look to know what it is, she knows this path all too well. She lets her friend take a trip down memory lane, noticing the hazy look in her eyes, as if her soul is currently elsewhere. 

The etching is still there, although faded over time, both their names carved delicately into the side of the tree. Heather can see them both, two teenagers gossiping about high school drama, still in their uniforms having come straight from school into the woodland. They would bring books and talk about the different kinds of trees and wildlife that could be found, often running off to hunt for them. Every time they would bound into the forest their trousers tucked into their boots, coats half zipped up and hats barely hanging on, they were free.

The forest was their own escape, it held a different story every day, a new set of characters to get to know and sometimes even a mystery to solve. To most it was just a set of trees on the outskirts of town, but to them it was a whole other world. 

Tee was Heather’s rock; she was her best friend and someone she could always count on. On multiple occasions they would sit next to this very tree, often reminding the other of their worth and how much they are loved. Breakups, university rejections, family drama, work drama; whatever it was at the time, they made sure to reassure and console the other. Heather cherished every memory she had beside the ageing tree, as did Tee. 

Heather reached out her hand to gently caress the etching, a small reminiscent smile gracing her face as she does. What was once a trickle is now a tsunami of memories, flooding her brain and numbing her senses. It’s Tee’s hand on her shoulder and comforting smile that brings her back to reality.

“You are always able to ground me, you know that?” Heather says as she starts to walk again, her gaze once again focused on the path ahead. 

“It was always something I prided myself in. I could tame the great Heather Kingsley,” Tee responds. “I would shout it from the rooftops if I could.” This causes Heather to laugh. 

“Well, it’s something I really appreciate, I know I can be a bit boisterous and wild at times.” Heather can’t help but smile as she affirms. They fell back into the comfortable silence as it was before.

As they turned the next corner, the forest opened, and the path led them into a small meadow. A paradise separated from the rest of the world by a ring of thick trees of all varieties. The gravel and mud path disappeared as they walked into the open, leaving footsteps behind them in the thick layer of frost that dusted the grass. It was only a few steps before they reached the middle, a big limestone slab lay in the centre. Like those laid as a path at the start of the trail, although this one was cleared of moss. Heather squats down, laying her hand on the stone in front of her. Her heart breaks at the words etched into the stone in front of her, it’s as if for a moment she had forgotten.

*

The forest was their own escape, it held a different story every day, a new set of characters to get to know and sometimes even a mystery to solve. To most it was just a set of trees on the outskirts of town, but to them it was a whole other world.

*

“I miss you…” She whispers, letting her forehead touch the stone as she curls against it. The memories that almost took over in floods earlier now overflow. This time she doesn’t have the hand on her shoulder or the comforting smile, the meadow only contains one soul. Around her curled body are remnants of a kinder time, two girls in various stages of young life running around the meadow. One was taller with short dark hair and the other with bright ginger curly hair that perfectly framed her rounder freckled face. 

Behind her the forest is silent, not even a breeze rustles the leaves on the trees. The forest leaves most people with an uneasy feeling, stray too far from the beaten path and it’s hard to miss. The trees don’t whisper to each other, the leaves barely rustle to the sound of the wind. This sets most people on edge, but the forest is in mourning. And therefore, doesn’t have the energy to rustle its leaves and whisper secrets.

Lydia Robinson
Nature’s Soul