Encroachment

The hoar frost lay on the ground late this year. He had been awake for a few dawns now; the air had become less frigid and warmed his sleepy body. The winter was still trying to stay though. It had been a cold one; he had not ventured out much and had preferred the comfort of his drey. The autumn had been spent constructing the drey, which had been embraced by the thick branches of the oak tree he had made his home. The winter had stripped it of the leaves but he had made sure there was a stash of food in his home to see him through the months of scarcity, he had had packed it full before the frosts had come. However, the larder was now empty, even though the frost carpeted the grass he had no choice but to climb down from the tree and skitter amongst the wild grasses, ever careful of the gliding predators from above and the careful not to venture to the brook wending its way through the valley. That was where the long predators lived.

***

Eyes open. An explosion of sound.

Skrreeeeek. Click click, skreek.

From torpor to flight passes in a nanosecond. The tree canopy shatters into a thousand pieces. She was amongst them. Part of the black shards that rose in the dusk sky. That swooped. That dived. The calls were numerous. Each was single and unique. The warmth was leaving the air. Darkness was falling, blending into their bodies. The heat of their bodies together was rising. She could see exactly what she needed to see. It was time to hunt.

***

“Yes, both of them will need to come down.” Phil grunted.

He looked up from the large papers in his hand. They were thrashing in the wind and blowing against his chest. Steven walked around the younger tree and gave it a small tap.

“I don’t think it will be possible, this one is at least seventy years old. I wouldn’t even like to guess at the others age.” He thumbed across at the older oak, which dwarfed its sibling. “But it’s definitely older than this oak. If you want to pull it down it won’t be a simple chainsaw job. The roots might go deep. And the age means there may be some paperwork involved.”

***

The air was quiet. For as long as he could remember there had been nothing but green about here, interspersed with long sandy grasses that creeped up the hillside. The left of his home there was a small wood in which he did most of his foraging. The woodland was a silent copse of bare branches that were monochrome against the yellow dawn. He feared these days the most. Although he was little and could skitter up the trees in a breath there was no real hiding place from the gliding creatures. His bushy red coat stood out against the dull bark of the trees, and the deep green of the grasses. He never really felt safe until late in the year, when the sun had waxed fully and had begun to wane. It would turn the abundant green leaves into a rich russet and he would become almost invisible to the gliding creatures. He could move a little freer then. The downside was the food was much poorer quality and he was almost compelled to gather and store it. He mind was taken over with thoughts of burying any little morsel of food he could find.

***

Each call describes her home. The tree, tall. Another, not so tall. A small distance apart. The land curves into a bowl. The land changes at the bottom of the dip, the calls came back disturbed. The land was flowing, taking her call with it. That was where the food was. It had become denser since her birth. The land felt busy. The food was diminishing. Now they had to go further to search for food. That would take her to other creatures. They had to be quiet when they were around. But silence meant blindness. Sometimes the creature would pick them from behind. Sometimes they came from above. There was nowhere to hide from them. It was safer to be amongst friends.

***

Phil looked at the plans, then back at the small patch of grass before him. He could already see it was going to be a logistical nightmare to fit seven houses onto this small scrap of land. The two oaks were the first problem. Their age and Britain’s obsession with wildlife heritage was going to make their removal a red tape nightmare. Even if he could sneak it past the council, the wildlife trust was ever watchful. Plus, it only took one dog walker to read the mandatory public notice of removal and there would be a public outcry. It didn’t take much from them lot, he sniffed. Plus he could see evidence of a bat colony in one of the oaks. Great, the bat protection people will be plaguing me for months.  The stream at the bottom of the site was going to be a nightmare too. It would have to be properly surveyed for flood risks and probable future erosion. That would certainly be a problem for potential buyers and their insurances. He thought it best to fill in the stream, divert it or dam it forever.

***

He feared nothing else but the gliding creatures and the long creatures by the water, and went about his business with no other thought on his mind but food. Lately, there had been an appearance on the horizon, perched at the top of the hill. The rocks had dug themselves out of the ground and rearranged themselves on the brow of the hill. It was a wide arrangement; the rocks had set themselves upon each other in a neat organisation. He had seen wild creatures with four tall legs race up to the arrangement at great speed. They carried other creatures on their backs that removed themselves from the wild creatures and would disappear into the rock structure. Sometimes the arrangement would billow an acrid fog from the top. Sometimes the fog drifted to his oak home and stung his eyes. It made him want to stay away from the arrangement, away from the black fog.

***

Other sounds confused her.

Honk, beep, screech.

They were made by creatures that could only move on the ground. They could only move forward. Fast. It was better to stay up then get in their way. Some creatures grew slowly from the ground. Or they covered it in a thick hard shell completely. Those creatures never moved once they had grown. They had glowing eyes that would burn bright as soon as the moon was up. They confused her. She would see them and think of the tree. It was time to go back once the light was here. No darkness to hide her black skin against. Easy for the creatures to get her. But the glowing eyes stayed glowing all through the night. The mind said go back to the Oak tree. Her stomach said she was hungry. She hated the glowing eyes the most.

***

Steve sat between the trees whilst Phil went to investigate the stream at the bottom of the site.

Save the trees

He scribbled on a tattered notebook with his half chewed pencil. It was scribbled in irritation and rising anger. Steve was a local lad, had grown up in the terraces at the top of the hill and used to walk down to play here as a boy. He was only thirty four years old but he had seen so much change around here already. The hill, once vast grassland, had lost its green bit by bit. Whilst he was away at university the doctor’s surgery had appeared between the stream and the road. Of course, because it was a public building a car park had to be built. That meant another section of green was paved over.  The stream was once over run with toads and newts. Now, he was lucky if he saw one toad between the vicinity. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw a newt.

***

Time and memory played terrible tricks on him, for almost as sure as he had cached enough food to get him through the last frosts he had now found himself skittering around in circles and darting between the grasses to locate his hoards. The winter had hardened the ground; numerous ice over’s had come and gone. The grass had withered and returned to full bloom again. He had made sure to keep his land small so he would not have this problem but every year was the same. The grass disguised every hole he had dug, or the tree roots he had buried food between had thrown out more roots and covered his stash completely. He always remembered he had food, He keenly remembered the feel in his mouth of that tasty seed hidden in the ground but as the sun fattened and melted the frost he could not place it, surely it had to be here somewhere.

***

It was always said to stay away from the creatures on the ground. They didn’t come out at night. Or very rarely did she notice them. They didn’t like her. She didn’t like them. If she saw them she would try get away. There were a lot of those creatures too. They got everywhere. The two trees were the only home she had known. There were no new trees until you got out of the dip. Nobody went there unless they had to mate. They liked to follow where the land changed and started to flow. That was where the food lived.

***

Phil had now folded his plans and tucked them under his arm. He was now scribbling in a moleskine journal.

...The doctor’s surgery would be a massive pull, plus the road has good motorway connections. Planning might be a bugger but we know how to get things done! Get used to paperwork for next three months!!

Steve chewed at the end of his pencil as he thought.

Planning

Conservation

Wildlife trust

Public

He leant against the elder oak, the one he used to climb as a young boy, and scrawled his list. He was only a tree surgeon by trade, which was the capacity Phil had invited him here on, to give a quote on the trees’ removal, but personally he preferred the term Arborist. He was a tree manager, not culler. He would be damned if he was going to murder the last bit of greenery this village had.

***

The tasty nut sat in the ground, undisturbed as tiny feet skittered over it. The suns ray were already beginning to penetrate, warming the already damp earth. The tasty nut suddenly awoke and began its process, shooting out a tiny feeler that would someday penetrate the surface above. It would make a fine sibling for the neighbour oak.

***

The hunt was good. Her belly is full. She returns to the oak. The darkness is now retreating. It is beginning to warm again. Her body aches from her long journey. She finds her place amongst the leaves and branches. She nestles close to her friends. As the sun warms them through she begins to fall into a deep sleep.

***

“Right, well, I’ll get that quote back to you in a week.” Steve said as he walked back to Phil.

Phil snapped his notebook shut and offered out his hand, which Steve shook with a smile.

“Great, thanks for this, we should have full permission to go ahead then; so it doesn’t hurt to start levelling the land, eh?”

Steve could only smile meekly. He walked back to his battered pick up and climbed into the cab. He opened his notebook and took his phone from his cargo pants. This could not wait.