Autumnal Tree

“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.” – Joyce Kilmer

The vibrant oranges, reds, and golds made the sparse green foliage explode in contrast. The red canyon walls had stretched high around Benson for the last hour of the hike. He had begun to despair of seeing anything besides red earth and stone until he saw the forest ahead. Finding a forest here had taken him completely off guard.

Adam Benson, or Benson as the guys called him, stood in the shadow of one canyon wall trying to make sense of what he saw. It was not an overly hot day, he generally saved hikes in this desert for late in the year for that reason. Still, the shade felt good. Benson had been hiking in the red rock around his hometown of Sedona many times before, but this was the first time he had encountered this canyon.

He checked his map again. The collection of lines on the topographical map did not seem to indicate the existence of a canyon like this in the area. The young man had not been hiking in this area since enlisting several years back but when he took leave to come to his parent’s 50^th anniversary he knew he would have to make time for a day hike. He had packed his ruck with the gear and supplies he would need, including the map and compass he had been trying to reconcile with his surroundings.

It was near mid-day, and he could see the walls of the canyon closing off several hundred feet into the thick forest of deciduous trees. Deciduous! Benson shook his head in wonder. Evergreens grew around these parts not thick stands of oaks, maples, and, well, he wasn’t sure what some of the large, gnarled ones were. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself.  

He replaced the map in his pocket and glanced at the sky, “I should have enough time to reach the far side and make it back before dark.” He felt awkward having broken the silence of this place, even if it was just muttering to himself. He shifted the bag on his back to sit more comfortably and started into the trees.

Lush ferns stretched wide fronds between squat bushes of autumnal color that he could only guess at identifying. The trees all seemed large, some straight and some bent, but all seemed full and strong. Come to think of it, he couldn’t see any new growth. Every plant that he inspected appeared to be mature and full of life.

A shiver ran down his spine. He could not decide if this place felt strange, or if he was allowing fancy to run away with him. It felt… old. No, ancient would be a better term. A tingle ran wild across his skin, and he was suddenly hyperaware. However, he also felt strangely comfortable and refreshed, like he hadn’t just spent half a day hiking through a desert.

Benson was able to follow a fairly clear path through the middle of the strange autumnal forest. For all of its meandering twists and turns, it seemed a determined path to… something. He realized at some point that he seemed to have lost track of time entirely. He could not have said whether the walk had taken him minutes or hours when he finally emerged into a small opening in the canopy.

A gigantic tree stood at the center of a small break in the trees. It was bent and gnarled. It seemed to have a sparsely scattered collection of branches sitting right on top of the massive trunk. The deeply fissured bark shone silver in the sunlight and the patterns in the bark made him think of weathered faces. Two massive swirls in the tree’s exterior gave the appearance of a door and window. Benson was sure the formations were a mix between knot and burl, but he could not shake the feeling that he was staring at an incredibly ancient dwelling.

When he could bring his eyes away from the strange tree, Benson noticed a small brook bubbling freely nearby. The water seemed pure and untouched by the surrounding sediments or any other form of pollution. It was cool to the touch and even through his water filter, it was amazingly refreshing.

Glancing at the sky, Benson decided he had enough time to sit for just a moment and enjoy the wonder of this hidden forest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When the young man opened his eyes again the sky was dark and blanketed by stars. Benson sat up with a jerk. He had just closed them for a moment. Surely, he had not fallen asleep, had he?

A small thread of panic wound its way through him. He had not come prepared for an overnight stay and had told his parents he would be back that evening. He jumped to his feet and finally took in the forest around him. Soft glowing lights seemed to float in little balls throughout the undergrowth. They bobbed slowly in place, just outside of his ability to see clearly.

Yet, they provided enough light to see the path ahead. Benson started back the way he had come. It took several steps for him to notice that no matter how far he walked the small globes of light always seemed to float indistinctly ahead. He shook his head, it seemed foggy somehow.

The path seemed straighter than he remembered, and it was difficult to tell the direction he was going or how time passed in the eerily lit night. For Benson, it felt like he walked a quarter of the distance back out and saw a sharp bend in the canyon walls ahead. The next few steps put him back on red rock and out from under the trees. He shook his head again, this looked like where he entered the cavern, but that was impossible.

He cautiously picked his way around the bend in the canyon and stopped dead in his tracks. In the distance, he could see the full moon reflecting off the hood of his truck. It simply was not possible. He had walked half the day to get to that strange forest in the canyon, and at least an hour before he saw the canyon in the first place.

He turned to look back at the high canyon walls and nearly sat down. Flat hard-baked earth and rock stretched out all around him. Benson put his hand to his head and felt something in his palm. A large round acorn rested in his palm.

He stumbled his way back to his truck. How would he ever tell anyone about this?