Entertainment

Flash fiction by Gary Hewitt (c) 13/06/25

The sun peered through the canopy, a gentle rain of soft leathered bronze descended. Autumn. Always this time of year held a certain magic for me. It is as though we are ready to finish our latest epoch and the daylight is ever so slightly cooler.

The sound of a woodpecker prising open a meal summons me to look up. I cannot see the spectacular bird, but I sense movement rustling in the leaves. A squirrel darts from branch to branch in a rambunctious descent in a quest for acorns. He peers at me. I hear a voice tell me not to be late.

I look around and cannot see who spoke. A male tenor, quite deep and aged. I peer back at the small mammal nibbling on a nut. He turns tail and sprints up the footpath leading into the heart of the forest. I am somewhat puzzled and head off in the same direction.

With each step the rustling in the leaves intensifies. The air loaded with a hum of hidden knowledge and excitement. My skin turns to horripilations and a rhythm pulses in the trees: it’s almost as if those withering leaves wish to sing.

I hear it. At first, a soft whisper peeling from the interior but growing ever louder as I venture deeper within. There is no doubt now. Music. Drums, guitars, banjo, recorder, bass and a Canadian soul lilt transcending from bough to branch, from flower to stem, from badger to deer and oak to me.

My whole body vibrates in the lightest of movements and touch. I turn, come to a small hill lit with the last golden hues of the sun. A crowd of blackbirds, finches, mice, foxes, badgers, deer, weasels and squirrels sit and stand transfixed looking upon the apex. On that radiant spot a group of racoons hum and strum the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard.

Be in light and so delight

within the hollows of our song

We reach out and play

For surely all belong

In gnarly days of this old year

We all shall play our part

Always remember be oh so true

And listen to your heart.

The lead singer repeated the refrain over and over and I swear the chains of my core released to an epiphany of lighter ways. I know not how long I stood in that sweetest space. My thoughts and mind raced ever higher. I may have swooned.

My eyes opened, a full moon gazed upon me with her fey light. I rose, a great white horse neighed and rose on hind legs before leaping into the forest. I caught my breath, rubbed my eyes. Did this beautiful animal have a horn upon its brow?

I could not answer, for the light though bright did not wholly reveal. I traced my way back and wondered or maybe I dreamed. To this day, I know not

.