when a tree falls, alone, in the forest, does it make a sound?

does it care, if it did or not? does it realize that the sound of its death, the final swansong of its existence, might never be heard? does that matter? does it want to be grieved? does it matter whether or not the animals and greenery it co-existed and competed with realize that it's gone now? that it'll never be climbed on by squirrels, its roots tripped on by careless hikers, its bark used to scratch a bears back? well, maybe i shouldn't be so certain about that one. a log on the ground might be the same to a bear as a proud oak standing tall. standing, standing, standing...

maybe it isn't a matter of being grieved for. maybe it's not a funeral that it wants. maybe falling over isn't a tragedy for it. it might be, for other trees. for others of oak and spruce and bark and root. but maybe, just maybe, for this one tree, it's an accomplishment. maybe it was tired of its stationary life. sickened by the way all those similar to it were happy to simply... stand. maybe, unlike them, it took no pride in growing tall and strong. maybe it was filled with jealousy, whenever it saw a bird fly from the nest. maybe it was disgusted by how tightly its roots, its nourishing, strong roots, held it to the ground.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

maybe it wants acknowledgement, for its efforts. or wanted, i should say. yes, maybe it simply wanted to be known as the one that broke free. the one that moved, the consequences be damned. maybe it shrieked its victory as it fell. maybe... it really did break free.

probably not. that's too human for a tree. maybe we're the silly ones, unable to just sit there and appreciate the grass and the sun and the sea. maybe.

but i'm certain of one thing. it does make a sound. when a tree falls, alone, in the forest, it makes a fucking sound. and that little noise, that impact of wood on dirt and stone, might be the most gorgeous music in the world. a cacophony of an ending. a beautiful finale. and maybe, possibly, a sound to herald a new beginning.

or maybe it's just a disappointing thud.

who knows.

it fell alone, after all.