Forest of Thoughts
The forest creaked softly in its eternal silence of existence.
You must be so lucky not having to think about all these things of the world, the boy murmured looking at one of the trees.
What makes you think our static life excludes thinking answered the tree.
The boy was sitting on top of a fallen tree trunk, dangling his feet from the edge. His forehead crunched and frowned, as he tried to come up with the topic to write about. It’s never easy when you want it too much he noted with sour acceptance, oh well… Keeping his pen and paper close, he looked up and gazed at the wooden maze that surrounded him. He was somewhere in the middle of the forest, which has been a part of his hometown area for longer than he could probably imagine, and while enjoying the paths he found this secluded fallen tree clearing. The sun beamed between the leafless trunks occasionally, offering moments of serene warmth on one’s skin. The boy observed the trees that quietly participated in this world of nature, which seemingly still natural, in many places was long exchanged for a synthetic, human-made one. He wished for the forests to stay the way they are. Reflecting on the beauty of nature surrounding him, he considered the eternal chatter his mind offered within, coming up with solutions, problems, ideas, and topics to analyze and often worry about without a moment to take a soothing breath. That’s the essence of consciousness he pondered, a constant avalanche of thought… Staring in the space covered by brown-shaded relics of life’s essence, he heard a question arising between the many. One that was interesting enough to let it catch his attention for a moment – do trees think…? He pondered making out a silly smile as if his body was already promoting a response. Surely thinking without being able to do anything would be rather daunting he argued silently. He looked at the bark, which covered the trunk, on which he was sat, and scraping it with his nail quietly added – although the saying ‘to have the tough skin’ could suggest otherwise… Maybe they’re strong enough to not worry he thought.
Jumping off the trunk, the boy picked up his pencil and notebook and walked towards the path. It was one less often used, for which he adored it. It felt almost sacred to be here, and he was there often. Sometimes when walking his dog, sometimes on his own, he appreciated coming around, sinking into the solitude of the forest and letting his mind wander without distractions and commotion of the daily life out there, in the human world. He wasn’t much of an introvert but recognized the natural need for quiet, which was so often overlooked by today’s society. There would be fewer mental health issues he pondered if more people would exercise the time on their own… Without the noise of the screen and scandalous civilization he added. He passed by one of the trees and brushed its trunk with his hand. He stopped and keeping his hand on the trunk, closed his eyes. The forest creaked softly in its eternal silence of existence, as the boy listened. You must be so lucky not having to think about all these things of the world he murmured. What makes you think our static life excludes thinking answered the tree quietly. He smiled hearing the statement manifesting in his mind and imagined the forest as a huge tree convention. All the noises around him, all the creaks and rustle of the branches and trunks now reminded him of the chatter, small-talk, and heated discussion of the participants. The great conference of patience and courtesy. No one screams, no one talks over the other, everyone listens to understand. That is how the boy imagined the perfect world congress to act. There is plenty we could learn from you he claimed to open his eyes if only we would start to listen…