What was on their minds, as they cut down the very last tree?
That was the question Jenna Grisham had on her mind when she closed her eyes one evening. Dreams sometimes imitate the final thought someone has just before falling asleep. Surely, this question was the theme of many dreams this particular evening. Global news networks put the story in front of anyone willing to listen. As of the previous afternoon, the last known forest had been cut down. The cutting was declared done once the only remaining old growth tree at the forest's centre was pulled up by the roots.
Jenna couldn’t understand why the news had affected her so much. She was never an environmentally conscious individual, which made her dream that night all the more strange. She dreamt she was in the forest shortly after the cutting was complete, standing amongst thousands of fallen trees, their stumps inspiring a great deal of guilt in her. In this dream, she felt somehow responsible, as if her own hands had wielded the tools of deforestation.
There were no people, surviving plants and small grieving animals her only company. The leaves on each tree were still green, clinging to life, counting down the hours until they dried up and were carried away by wind. Jenna saw a massive tree in the lingering fog ahead. It hadn’t been cut, but was lying, roots and all, next to a hole left by its absence. She walked towards it, taking careful steps. Everything here seemed fragile.
Approaching the fallen tree, she wasn’t surprised to see it was the old growth tree. It lay defeated, like an old and mighty king struck off its once great throne. Now it was just waiting for time to carry it away. Jenna moved to its trunk, resting a hand on its rippled surface. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but this was a tragedy. She didn’t need evidence…only a human heart.
Running her hand along the trunk as she went, she walked towards the exposed roots. She saw the mighty hole. It was unbelievably deep, the ground beneath undisturbed for hundreds of years, perhaps thousands. Jenna didn’t know.
After a few moments of examination, she noticed something at the bottom of the hole. She lowered herself into it, moving to the glimmer she had seen partially hidden in the dirt. What she found were five blue pearls. Connecting them was a beautiful gold chain, unmarked in any way. Brushing away the dirt, Jenna pulled them free, holding them gingerly in her right palm.
She looked at the base of the mighty tree, lying close by.
The ground beneath undisturbed for hundreds of years, perhaps thousands.
She looked back to the blue pearls. They flashed brightly and without warning, as if in response to her touch.
She awoke with a start, sitting up in bed hastily and with heavy breaths. All seemed normal, except for the brilliant blue pearls still clutched tightly in her right palm.