The Dance
A lone silhouette stood in the center of the clearing. Poised limbs shone silver in the light of the moon, awaiting the first trill of the mockingbird’s song. A cascade of wavy hair, the colour of copper and rust, fluttered gently in the night breeze. The dancer drew a slow breath and remained still and silent. Apart from the occasional rustling in the surrounding woods and the distant creature calls, the clearing was bathed in a reverent calm.
The hush was interrupted by a descending minor scale as a mockingbird announced his arrival. On cue, the dancer folded into a deep bow. One bare foot moved behind the other as he straightened. Lithe arms extended, the dancer leapt and twirled about the clearing as the mockingbird sang. With a quick, light gait the dancer flitted to the edge of the woods, then turned to face the opposite side. He grinned wildly and extended his hand to receive the hand of his partner.
She was not there to offer hers.
The dancer’s grin was instantly replaced with a grimace of dread as he searched the clearing. He dropped his arms to his sides, having lost the desire to dance if he could not dance with his love. The mockingbird, however, continued to perform unconcerned by the missing party’s absence.
The dancer circled the area, seeking and listening carefully for his beloved. He gazed into the forest hoping to catch a glimpse of her among the trees. As the hours passed, the dancer grew more and more distraught over his partner’s disappearance. The night would soon be over and she had not yet joined the dance.
The mockingbird sang out the final notes to a somber motif and took flight, leaving the woods in silence once again. Acknowledging the conclusion of the song, the dancer returned to his original location with tears streaming down his face. His toes sank into the soft earth and lichens clung to his flesh in a mosaic of dark and light patches. As he lifted his hands to the sky, the silver glisten of his skin faded to a dull grey and his arms split into dozens of slender branches sprouting small, rounded leaves and brown cones. He closed his eyes and his features flattened, fading into the bark texture of his morning skin.
•≈•≈•≈•≈•
A lone silhouette stood in the center of the clearing. As the first hint of dawn spread through the woods, a warm breeze ruffled the leaves of the red alder tree. To the left of the tree, a jagged amber circle protruded aggressively through the long meadow grass. The ugly red stump was all that remained of the second red alder.
