Normal Tree Novels & Stories

The Ambaram As the icy wind cuts through the sleepy forest of Ambaram, the dried leaves from the top of old trees that were barely appended to the thick and thin branches finally resigned their lives at the top and descended to the solid grounds. They were deteriorating under the harsh attacks of a cruel climate. The dry weather was sucking the moisture out of them. The shady fog wasn’t allowing the sunlight to reach them, limiting their source of nourishment. Soon, the trees will discard them completely and as the spring will come around the corner, new buds will sprout, marking the commencement of a new season.

Within a minute the tree was on the ground. "Oh, it really smells piney now." "Yeah, be careful where you touch. The pine sap is a booger to get off." Mitch explained while dragging the tree through the snow and back to their ride. He yanked the netting out from the back and Ronnie helped him open it and spread it on the ground. He placed the tree on it and rolled it. Ronnie yelled, "Wait. Bring the saw." Mitch grabbed the saw and headed in the direction of the sound of her voice. She was shorter than all the trees, so he searched each row. Once he found her, she stood in front of a small baby-like tree, only about two feet tall from the ground up.

"Has she done anything. Since she was born. Anything that seemed wrong." Petra hesitated. "What," Aria said. "When I first held her. There was—" She stopped. Started again. "The trees moved. Around us. Not wind. They just moved. Leaned in." The forest. Which had been growing without human interference for two centuries. Which had developed its own particular ecosystem, its own balance, its own Aria looked at the trees around them. At the way they were positioned. At the specific density of canopy directly above them. Cover. They'd walked into perfect cover without choosing it. Without navigating toward it. The path had just been there.

TRINITY The forest was alive, teeming with an energy that made every sound sharper, every scent stronger. The air was crisp, carrying the earthy aroma of pine needles and damp moss. Moonlight spilled through the dense canopy above, casting silver streaks onto the forest floor and illuminating my path. The trees seemed impossibly tall, their dark silhouettes stretching into the sky like silent guardians.

It has been almost a week since he had been coped up in his office coming up with the almost perfect plan and he had missed the best of the rainy seasons. As he looked out of the window towards the forest, he could immediately tell the difference in the trees growth. The umbrella shaped trees have started sprouting flowers. The tamarind fruit on the other side was more or less the same. Almost all the fruits planted in the forest looked as colorful as a flower garden with the different shapes and colors of their flowers.

Elliot laughs nervously, “Yes she is.” I looked at David and asked, “Out of curiosity, what made you want to check it?” He replied, “Willow trees grow to those heights in full sun. They don’t do well in shade at all. Most of the time, if you see a Willow tree, there are no other trees around it. They like to hog the sunlight. They don’t play well with other trees.” I laughed, “Thank you. It looks like I have a lot to learn.” He smiled, “We would all be happy to teach you all that we know.”

The only clue that it hasn’t is the trees. The trees surrounding the building are all younger, and shorter than the massive tall trees the forest usually produces. Where the trees around the complex are small and smooth, the old trees are wide and rough. The more I stare, the more out of place it seems to appear as though someone was trying to create a camouflage look, but somehow overdid it.

She gestured a mittened hand pointing towards a peculiarly shaped tree near the edge of the meadow, “What kind of tree is that? The one that looks like it’s bowing?” Dean followed her gesture to a large tree, its trunk growing out at an angle from the ground before curving back upwards. “That’s a larch,” he said. “A rather dramatic one. The snow load over decades shapes them that way sometimes. It looks like it’s paying homage to the mountain.” “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured, genuinely captivated by its enduring posture. “I planted it,” Dean said. Wren’s head turned towards him. “Seriously? You planted that?”

Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting enchanting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Cynthia couldn't help but admire the sheer grandeur of the trees. Their gnarled roots seemed to reach deep into the earth, drawing sustenance from the very core of the land. Each branch bore the marks of time, with leaves that rustled in the gentle breeze, creating a symphony of whispers that resonated with the wisdom of ages.

Amelia's POV As I made my way through the forest, the familiar sight of the towering oak tree greeted me like an old friend. Its gnarled branches reached out to me, casting dappled shadows upon the forest floor as if beckoning me closer. With each step, the soft crunch of leaves beneath my feet echoed through the tranquil air, a comforting melody that soothed my restless soul. The canopy above filtered the sunlight into a dappled mosaic of light and shadow, casting a sense of enchantment over the secluded grove where the ancient oak stood sentinel.