The Migration of Trees

Written By: Daniel Hudon

What if the trees are still deciding what to become, taking their time, meditating in place, humming a lower-than-low mantra on the nature of being, soaking up the sun to power their photosynthetic thoughts, thinking about life, the universe and everything while a brief caress of wind persuades them to move, reminds them of their youthful mobility in the mists of time and their dreams of living like a cloud or a river, so they get ideas about traveling north or south: you know, I’ve always wanted to see the Northern Lights or, shall we visit our cousins in the South? and they think, collectively, well if we start now we could get there in a few million years give or take with a few stops along the way but the ever-vigilant birds, always listening, the chipmunks and squirrels whose hearts beat in the trees, the moths and butterflies, who can’t stand the idea of change, and even the tree snails and caterpillars, who have thoughts of their own just smaller ones, told them if you’re going we’re coming with you. Okay, the trees said as they stayed put, let’s all go. And they moved so glacially that none of the animals got left behind or even noticed that they were moving.

Daniel Hudon

Daniel Hudon, originally from Canada, teaches astronomy and math as an adjunct lecturer in Boston.

He is the author of The Bluffer’s Guide to the Cosmos (Oval Books), a chapbook of prose and poetry, Evidence for Rainfall (Pen and Anvil) and the forthcoming book of stories about the biodiversity crisis, Brief Eulogies for Lost Species (Pen and Anvil). He lives in Boston, MA.

Twitter @daniel_hudon |