Fall-Out

FALL-OUT was written in response to a Queensland Writers Centre short story prompt. I do not have great success with my quick-reads submissions, although once or twice I have won a book prize. Since I have been absent from blogging for awhile I thought you may like to read it.

King Parrots breakfast, Australia © *image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2015*

Here is what I submitted to Queensland Writers Centre in response to the prompt ‘Weather’ and something which I experienced first-hand prior to writing this piece. Needless to say I feel powerless to change the situation.

A sunny day in Brisbane suburbia and treeloppers are busy chain-sawing the mature trees in the next street. Sublime spring weather brings a softness to the air but it attracts the hacking and slashing of all that nature has created for the coming months.
These trees were planted during the 1970s for shade and privacy and much prized by elderly residents, the nesting birds, tiny native bees and possums. Ground zero now seems preferable to birds tweeting and butterflies fluttering in the foliage.
I shudder to think of the fragile eggs and hatchling baby birds cheeping in terror before being flung from their nests as their distressed parents fly back and forth, powerless to stop the screaming metal teeth from destroying their home, their family.
Flocks will circle for hours, upset and disorientated as fresh green branches are fed into the slashing blades of the growling mulcher attached to the back of a rusty truck.
Clouds pass overhead and gentle rain falls on my shoulders as my thoughts conjure the new buds, the tender green leaves, the butterfly chrysalis and tiny ecosystems being destroyed around the city and suburbs. Tree by tree extinguishing the natural order, the leafy shade, and ultimately changing the weather patterns of our subtropical city.

Undefeated Warrior Maiden © *image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2023*

Hope of the Tree Queen Warrior – Soliloquy

Tree Queen Warrior © image Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2023

The morning light struck her wounded heart but she raised her jagged limb and cried unheard “I shall be victorious! For I did nothing wrong, I was defenceless. If I could, I would speak loudly of the man in the dark night who, frustrated that I interrupted his view, tried to killed me with poison. My leaves fell, my smaller branches became brittle. The men in orange vests came with their chainsaws to finish me off. One muttered that I was unsafe, the other heard me sigh in sadness and stopped his brutal machine. They looked at me for awhile then trimmed me down. Orders were orders they said. No human has come back to mourn with me, the birds and insects dip their wings but do not stop. The geckos and ants will return when the poison washes away. I remain undefeated, I will grow again and keep my land green, the air cool, give rest to tired walkers, nesting for birds and adventure for the children who climbed my sturdy limbs. And the rain will nurture my young seedlings. See, they are struggling. It will take a long, long time to regrow, for that is how long it took me to grow. I am older than the man who almost killed me. Nature, my strength, says I can create sturdy limbs, green leaves and be a strong tree once again. I will try. I will outlive him. But today I am tired and my life-roots ache for clean water. I must rest before the first pale buds struggle to unfold.”