The leaves vibrating in the trees muffle the sounds of a not-so-distant civilization. Faint echos of human children, an ambulance siren, a whinnying police horse: timeless and familiar human sounds.
Somewhere on a distant planet, I am listening to these sounds on a scratchy record.
Don’t mind me.
My heart sinks at the sight of heart-shaped scars carved into some solemn, magnificent trees.
An old German Shepherd solemnly trails behind its masters with slumped shoulders.
A couple stops to kiss under the shimmering tree canopy, fully ignoring or fully aware of my alien presence.
There seems to be some collective human knowledge that this is just a hiccup - a temporary lapse in human chaos.
I take note.
Startled by the sound of cackling teenagers, a coot skids closer behind its mother on the water's surface.
I look up at the trees, stalwart like flying buttresses.
If only humans whispered in forests
like they do in cathedrals.