Word Paintings

The Forest

Chirp, chirp. The little bird's song rang through the woods, its harmonious voice soothing lucky listeners. It ruffled its wood-brown and cardinal-red feathers. It then fluttered from the lower branch to the higher one, took a glimpse of its surroundings, and continued chirping. Such melody was not the only sound that came from the woods that day.

Rustle, rustle. The squirrels scurried down the oak trees and scampered across the ground. Those little critters, with their bushy tails and reddish-brown fur, scoured the woods for food. Nuts. Acorns. Wild berries. One of them found a nearby bush beaming with bright red berries. It took one, nibbled it, and then signalled the others. There was enough forage for the group.

Thud, thud. A man came marching between the trees, his leather bag hanging from his shoulder and something clasped in his right hand. The creatures curiously observed him. Was he holding a gun? A knife? An animal trap? The young man leaned against one of the trees, pulled out a piece of paper from his bag, and revealed a brush. He began to paint what saw around him.

The sky. A magnificent sun was unobstructed by the clouds, her royal presence illuminating and warming those below her. She stood alone in the cyan sky - beautiful, untouchable, and extremely bright. Only the fowls dared to fly nearer, but they never reached her. Their wings spread like a fan, each feather like a blade, and they soared through the sky. The large fowls were clothed in white, their heads and gizzards colored bright yellow, or ruby red, or turquoise and green. They swept over the trees and latched onto branches with their sharp, silver talons. The smaller birds stayed closer to the ground. Their feathers were more diverse: cardinal red, royal blue, streaks of emerald green and amber yellow, snowy white, and charcoal black. Some of them hid in dark tree trunks, and others perched on small branches. The cutest ones let out their songs and mating calls.

The trees themselves were imposing. Towering, intimidating, and steadfast. Their branches were raised up high and their green fingers provided shade from the golden sunlight. The leaves neared the end of their lives - bright green faded from their surfaces as amber and crimson crept into their being. The wood was a rich, dark brown. A brown that was not tainted by any red or any other color,  but instead traced with grey crevices and deep black cracks. The bushes were much more lowly. They squatted on the forest ground, seemingly approachable. They lured the unsuspecting by bearing berries. Some were delicious. The dark red ones, the navy blue ones, and the purplish ones were all edible. They made a satisfying crunch once you bit into them and the juice seeped into your mouth. But the bright red berries, and the orange and yellow ones, were poisonous. A slight pinch could release their toxins faster than a bird flying on a windy day.

The man lowered his gaze and focused on the creatures, observing them keenly. The deer and the doe galloped between the trees, their hooves loudly thudding as they cantered. A squirrel leaped from branch to branch. Snap. The unfortunate critter fell from above as it grasped a broken branch. The large bird's wings flapped in the dry air, its whooshes barely audible. On the tree next to him, a woodpecker hammered its beak into the trunk.

The man had finished his painting and began strolling through the forest. His heavy, dark brown boots crunched the crispy foliage beneath him. His eyes, as blue as the sky above him, glanced at the painting he made.

He captured the forest perfectly.