The Fern Forest
As I was walking, I looked down the forest path and saw the strangest ferns. They grew in tall tufts, pointing toward the sky, but pointing toward themselves at the same time. Each fern prong was curled at the end so the tip of each fern had a tight little green ball attached. It looked like eggs to some alien creature. Some little alien animal might hatch right out of the tip of the fern and procreate and grow and inherit the earth. Or, it looks like the fern itself is a creature that will uncoil and lash out at you as you pass by, grinning and unsuspecting until the creature has hold of you.
The ferns look like strange little people all huddled together, looking at each other and leaning back with laughter. A comedy in the forest. The hoopla of being a plant. The hullabaloo of soaking in the sunshine and the moisture and the nutrients of soil.
A person could get lost in that alien land of tall ferns. A person could wander off the path and disappear into a shrouded field of ferns. The ferns uncoiling and reaching toward the passing ankles. The mud squishing under the shoes, the ferns pulling, pulling, pulling.
The ferns protect their young and protect their fallen.
The ferns will beckon you to the front gate of their frosted world. They will make you answer questions by making you curious, so curious you ask yourself questions, which are really just their questions in disguise.
The ferns can hypnotize you with their stripes and their spirals. The ferns can make you one of them, and then send you out into the world to do their bidding.
The ferns look like strange little people all huddled together, looking at each other and leaning back with laughter. A comedy in the forest. The hoopla of being a plant. The hullabaloo of soaking in the sunshine and the moisture and the nutrients of soil.
A person could get lost in that alien land of tall ferns. A person could wander off the path and disappear into a shrouded field of ferns. The ferns uncoiling and reaching toward the passing ankles. The mud squishing under the shoes, the ferns pulling, pulling, pulling.
The ferns protect their young and protect their fallen.
The ferns will beckon you to the front gate of their frosted world. They will make you answer questions by making you curious, so curious you ask yourself questions, which are really just their questions in disguise.
The ferns can hypnotize you with their stripes and their spirals. The ferns can make you one of them, and then send you out into the world to do their bidding.