THE LAND OF RESURRECTION
SWALLOWSONG'S SWALLOWED SONG


"Gather around", said the doe "for this is a story from beyond the lands of the swamp where the MotherFather guides, and beyond the sands where the winds sing, and beyond the mountains where the snows fall. This is a story from a land beyond those lands, where trees talk and walk and the seasons are four in number. This is a story from a land that knows bitter cold as well as sweltering heat."

The doe's bright eyes closed, and though the marking on her forehead was only a marking, it looked like a third eye glinting in the firelight.

*

The MotherFather dwells in the Swamp and Their breath is the wind, and Their pulse is the tide, and Their life keeps the swamp ever-green. But in the lands outside the Swamp, there are other lands.

One is the desert, ruled by the sun and the shifting sands, ever hot.
One is the mountains, ruled by the cold and the soft snow, ever cold.
One is the plains, ruled by the grass and the whistling winds, ever dry.

And then there are the Undergrounds, land of caves and darkness and life, ever wet.

And then, there is a land beyond these lands. And in this land, beyond the mountains, there were trees that could talk, and walk, and dream. And this land knew hot and cold, dry and wet, wind and no wind, and all the things that lay in between.

*

Here, the doe stopped. She opened her eyes and surveyed those listening.

"Now the inhabitants of this land were trees, but you should think of them more as kin, for they could walk and talk and dream. Like us, they are born, and they die.

Remember this."

She lowered her head, and closed her eyes, and began the story again.

*

In the beginning, the temperature was mild. It would rain often and the soil was soft and kind. In this season, most of the trees began life. Nurtured by the kindness, they grew roots and trunks and sprouted branches, and leaves, and blossoms. Those who were youngest could not yet move, for their roots were too weak. But the soil is fertile at this time and when the rains began to dry up, most were strong enough to move.

After this, at the height of their lives, the sun would shine brighter and longer than any other time. They would grow stronger still under this sunlight and their leaves would turn rich green, their bark would get thicker, their sap would become sweeter, and they would walk the land. Sometimes there would be great storms, but so long as they could find a place to weather the wind, they suffered no great harm.

But soon, the sunlight began to lessen in strength, No longer did it reach beneath their skin and warm their blood. The temperature began to drop and the days grew shorter as the nights grew longer. In this time, a great change came upon the trees. Their leaves would begin to change color. Pale yellow, to gold, to red, to deep scarlet! When they gathered together, their brilliant coats seemed like flames. Slowly, the leaves would begin to fall and when the last had fallen, the trees would no longer move. They would close their eyes and sink into the deepest of dreams.

For after the last leaf had fallen, there was no more warmth in the world.. There was only cold, and a bitter biting wind, and later, when the nights had become longer than the day, there was snow. The trees would stand still, naked and bare, and they would not move. Snow would pile up over their roots and upon their branches. Sometimes there was ice too, and when the weight was too much sometimes branches would break off. Even this could not rouse the trees from their slumber.

But this was no end, and though their sleep was deep, it was not truly death. For when a kin dies, there is nothing in the world, not even the MotherFather, that can bring them back. But in this land beyond all other lands, as surely as the tides come high and low in our own Swamp, the cold began to recede, and the soil began to thaw.

And the rains would come on the tails of sparrows, and the soil would nurture and soothe and tend. The trees would regain their strength, and when their blossoms had turned to new leaves, the sun would come again too. Life began again and the land would once again be filled with trees and forests that shifted and changed shape. They would move as surely as the winds would come, as surely as their leaves would fall, as surely as the snow would fall.

As for the name of this land?

It is the land of resurrection.

And even to this day, somewhere beyond our ever-green Swamp where the MotherFather lives and breathes and guides, the cycle continues. Spring to Summer to Autumn to Winter. Life to Death, and back again.