Beatles in the Forest by Vira Niemkova

“Do you ever feel like… trees can talk?”

asked she. Her deep-green eyes now had tiny little golden sparks to them. Reflections of the Sun. Beautifully tired, readying itself to sleep. “What do you mean exactly?” I could not resist a smile. A thin maple branch cracked under my step. “I don’t know…Sometimes it seems I hear their whispers. Here! Try!” Grabbing my hand, she pulled me closer to a big old oat, wide and stoic. She listened, pressing her ear to its bark, full of cracks and mysteries. Full of life. It was at this moment that I knew.

Listen

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise not to tell?

Whoa, oh, oh

Closer

Let me whisper in your ear

Say the words you long to hear

“I’m in love with you. I mean, it says… that I’m in love with you.”

“Madly?”

“Disgustingly insanely.” Our ringing laugh flooded the forest, paving its lively way up to the sky.

For a few moments, we walked in silence, listening to birds in the distance sing. Apparently, they also have much to talk of. And our ignorance is their only privacy.