Hamadryads

Hamadryads... no one would believe in our existence, even though we are so vividly described in Greek mythology. Dryads that are one with trees... Beautiful, evasive creatures, whose energy and soul fuse with the roots of old oaks or birches.  Our existence sounds too far-fetched to be even considered as a  remote possibility by the mortals.

Yet, how can one explain this ecstatic feeling humans get when they are at dusk in a forest that's waking up? Forest that seems to yawn by rustling leaves in the wind? Forest that says 'good morning ' with invigorating sound of bird squeaking?

Sometimes we call out to those humans who are are not able to sleep during hot July  nights. We have various subtle methods but our favourite one is to employ cheerfully buzzing mosquitos. They are good at  dragging humans out of bed. Those that hear our primordial calling find themselves wandering to the woods at an ungodly hour in almost a trance-like state.

Our sweet music makes them realise with greatest astonishment that even their favourite songs can't  rival the sounds they are surrounded by. Their ridiculous belief that everything they create is superior vanishes into thin air as soon as they hear the sounds of true Nature. Humbly, they have to agree that adding an artificial sound to this, already perfect, music would be a dissonance. Almost like listening to an old Dire Strait vinyl with a scratch on it.

And when they truly open their eyes, sometimes for the first time in their lives,  they see us- smiling seductively or sweetly ( depending on our mood) at them, hugging an oak birch. And only then do they believe.

You are still unconvinced? Try to resist our calling at five am on a hot July morning.