I really liked the theme of transformation in this chapter, Ann. These lines stood out for me as well: "He realized he had never been alone. He had always been part of something vast and interconnected." Thank you for sharing and looking forward to reading Part 4.
Ahh there is such a deep loveliness in this Ann. By far my favorite chapter. Your word imagery is rich and invites feeling-vision. I’m enjoying this story so much
Thank you, Ben. The funny thing about writing a story in such small layers--even a simple fairytale like this--it keeps finding its own pathways like water flowing over rocks. Weird how that happens. The story keeps adjusting itself in my mind, attaching itself to other experiences and other times. And when it seems right, I get a little pang of recognition.
Great storytelling Ann. Many lines struck me. "He released his grip on humanity like letting go of a heavy burden he never knew he had been carrying." I loved the phrase "years of reverent work." Thank you.
I read this twice Ann, greedy with delight, my lungs taking in this expansive, embodied piece more deeply with each read. I felt myself becoming tree as I read your magical prose, the slowing of time, the reaching, remembering. So beautiful!
Kimberly--I'm overjoyed that you would come down this path with me. Your own deep love of the natural world is so strong! And you've given me the most gratifying kind of feedback possible. Thank you for your generous reading.
Ann, the deepest sigh of longing enveloped my senses while reading this chapter, your poetic lines felt true and enticing... oh would that we could all have the choice to be trees if we desired, to let go of the burden of humanness...
Your poetic words of transformation are so beguiling! Just beautiful...🌳
Susie, thank you for sharing this human burden with me across the miles. Much love to you as you walk and dream in a landscape of words and every day beauty. 💛
As I read this beautifully written tale, I feel I should be rejoicing with Olli. But my heart is back with Annu who's been abandoned, and all I feel so far is sad.
Elizabeth, I have never written a fictional story before. All my life, I've been afraid to do it. And can I just say what a wonder it is to have written a character that has your sympathy--even in some small way? My gosh, I'm just enormously humbled by your reading. And I feel your heart. I was just working on Part Four tonight (back to Annu's side of the story) and I find myself thinking about all the tragic ways that lovers become separated through death, addiction, divorce, deportation, or even just the winds of time blowing them apart. It is always so very sad.
I'm writing this for my great-great grandma who never made it through the grieving process, and I'm feeling such a bond with her. Thank you, dear Elizabeth, for following along and reading with so much tenderness. xo💛
Such a generous, creative way to honor your great-grandma’s grief, Ann, by reimagining the loss she suffered as a loved one’s transformation. Annu is certainly in my heart, as are the dear ones you’re writing for, and you as you keep them company in your storytelling.
Wow, I hadn't expected the tale to take a turn like this.
I do relate to this story, and, what I guess you could call, the choice between connection to others and connection to self.
The writing reminded me of one of my favorite works of fiction ever: "The Saga of the Swamp Thing" by Alan Moore. Even though it is a comic book taking place in a world of super heroes, the character is like a god of "the green" and connected to every bit of plant life on the planet. Olli's journey reminded me a bit of Moore's poetic prose in that.
Hasse, we're all connected in ways that are mysterious. To each other. To ourselves. And that moment of choice--that one breath--where one gets to choose . . . or do we? There are many neuroscientists who claim we really do not have nearly the degree of freewill we think we have. It fascinates me.
I finished "War and Peace" about a year ago, and Tolstoy changes genre by the end of it and writes a philosophical essay about free will, which I really like. Basically, he paints it as an "illusion" that is necessary in the moment -- but the more information we gather and the more time passes, it becomes clear that our "free choice" was inevitable.
Here is how he put it: "Freedom is the content, inevitability is the form." And that is basically how the historical and fictional events of the novel read.
I thought that was a delicate and inclusive way to think of it. Something only a great artist with a deep interest in history could have written.
I was transfixed by the poetry of Olli's transformation, especially that he had a choice and paused to consider what would be lost if he gave in to his longing. I've tried writing a human-to-tree transformation and also a story from a tree's perspective. I'm awed by the artistry of your writing.
Well, thank you! I like to personify the forest as I’m walking along. Tell myself little stories all the time. This is just an attempt to write one down. Keeping it pretty simple and my expectations light. So far, it’s been a very slow sweet process.
Gorgeous words, Ann. This transformation was both profound and beautiful, and also perfect.
"Infinitely patient." As a tree is.
It takes a special talent to write in a manner so embedded and connected to nature.
So many amazing passages to quote. Here's another favourite.
"And through it all, he could still sense Annu, but in a new way. He felt her through the trembling of leaves. His love for her had not diminished but transformed—become something vast and protective. Eternal."
Oh my goodness. This is so beautiful. I especially like this declaration of love: Olli wanted to love Annu not just with a human heart, but with the endless devotion of oak and earth and time. To be shelter itself, to be the ancient protector he had always longed to become.
I really liked the theme of transformation in this chapter, Ann. These lines stood out for me as well: "He realized he had never been alone. He had always been part of something vast and interconnected." Thank you for sharing and looking forward to reading Part 4.
I’m glad you liked it Neil. What’s that old saying? “To grow is to change. To become perfect is to have changed many times.” 💛
Ahh there is such a deep loveliness in this Ann. By far my favorite chapter. Your word imagery is rich and invites feeling-vision. I’m enjoying this story so much
Thank you for letting me know, Emma. Such a heart-lift 💛
This is becoming something big. I look forward to the next chapter.
So glad you're enjoying it, Wes!
Stunning. Thank you
I really appreciate your reading, Jonathan.
This just continues to deepen. With every chapter your prose reaches further and further just like the tree he’s become.
Thank you, Ben. The funny thing about writing a story in such small layers--even a simple fairytale like this--it keeps finding its own pathways like water flowing over rocks. Weird how that happens. The story keeps adjusting itself in my mind, attaching itself to other experiences and other times. And when it seems right, I get a little pang of recognition.
Great storytelling Ann. Many lines struck me. "He released his grip on humanity like letting go of a heavy burden he never knew he had been carrying." I loved the phrase "years of reverent work." Thank you.
I'm grateful to know, James, how it rests with you. You're someone whose work ethic I truly admire.
I read this twice Ann, greedy with delight, my lungs taking in this expansive, embodied piece more deeply with each read. I felt myself becoming tree as I read your magical prose, the slowing of time, the reaching, remembering. So beautiful!
Kimberly--I'm overjoyed that you would come down this path with me. Your own deep love of the natural world is so strong! And you've given me the most gratifying kind of feedback possible. Thank you for your generous reading.
Ann, the deepest sigh of longing enveloped my senses while reading this chapter, your poetic lines felt true and enticing... oh would that we could all have the choice to be trees if we desired, to let go of the burden of humanness...
Your poetic words of transformation are so beguiling! Just beautiful...🌳
Susie, thank you for sharing this human burden with me across the miles. Much love to you as you walk and dream in a landscape of words and every day beauty. 💛
As I read this beautifully written tale, I feel I should be rejoicing with Olli. But my heart is back with Annu who's been abandoned, and all I feel so far is sad.
Elizabeth, I have never written a fictional story before. All my life, I've been afraid to do it. And can I just say what a wonder it is to have written a character that has your sympathy--even in some small way? My gosh, I'm just enormously humbled by your reading. And I feel your heart. I was just working on Part Four tonight (back to Annu's side of the story) and I find myself thinking about all the tragic ways that lovers become separated through death, addiction, divorce, deportation, or even just the winds of time blowing them apart. It is always so very sad.
I'm writing this for my great-great grandma who never made it through the grieving process, and I'm feeling such a bond with her. Thank you, dear Elizabeth, for following along and reading with so much tenderness. xo💛
Such a generous, creative way to honor your great-grandma’s grief, Ann, by reimagining the loss she suffered as a loved one’s transformation. Annu is certainly in my heart, as are the dear ones you’re writing for, and you as you keep them company in your storytelling.
Many thanks, Elizabeth 💛💛💛
Wow, I hadn't expected the tale to take a turn like this.
I do relate to this story, and, what I guess you could call, the choice between connection to others and connection to self.
The writing reminded me of one of my favorite works of fiction ever: "The Saga of the Swamp Thing" by Alan Moore. Even though it is a comic book taking place in a world of super heroes, the character is like a god of "the green" and connected to every bit of plant life on the planet. Olli's journey reminded me a bit of Moore's poetic prose in that.
Looking forward to what's next.
Hasse, we're all connected in ways that are mysterious. To each other. To ourselves. And that moment of choice--that one breath--where one gets to choose . . . or do we? There are many neuroscientists who claim we really do not have nearly the degree of freewill we think we have. It fascinates me.
I finished "War and Peace" about a year ago, and Tolstoy changes genre by the end of it and writes a philosophical essay about free will, which I really like. Basically, he paints it as an "illusion" that is necessary in the moment -- but the more information we gather and the more time passes, it becomes clear that our "free choice" was inevitable.
Here is how he put it: "Freedom is the content, inevitability is the form." And that is basically how the historical and fictional events of the novel read.
I thought that was a delicate and inclusive way to think of it. Something only a great artist with a deep interest in history could have written.
That’s beautifully said. I will be pondering this, Hasse. Thank you 🙏
I was transfixed by the poetry of Olli's transformation, especially that he had a choice and paused to consider what would be lost if he gave in to his longing. I've tried writing a human-to-tree transformation and also a story from a tree's perspective. I'm awed by the artistry of your writing.
Well, thank you! I like to personify the forest as I’m walking along. Tell myself little stories all the time. This is just an attempt to write one down. Keeping it pretty simple and my expectations light. So far, it’s been a very slow sweet process.
Gorgeous words, Ann. This transformation was both profound and beautiful, and also perfect.
"Infinitely patient." As a tree is.
It takes a special talent to write in a manner so embedded and connected to nature.
So many amazing passages to quote. Here's another favourite.
"And through it all, he could still sense Annu, but in a new way. He felt her through the trembling of leaves. His love for her had not diminished but transformed—become something vast and protective. Eternal."
Thank you, Nathan. If only we could climb inside a tree and see the world that way--just for a day.
To have the restful understanding of a tree. Whoosh-what kind of a feeling you have penned, Ann.
Ron, thank you for imagining with me! :-)
Oh my goodness. This is so beautiful. I especially like this declaration of love: Olli wanted to love Annu not just with a human heart, but with the endless devotion of oak and earth and time. To be shelter itself, to be the ancient protector he had always longed to become.
Thank you, MK. The loving tree-being is a joy to imagine :-)