The Autumn Garden

• Arthur Aing, Grade 6, Regency Park Primary School
• Short Story
• 2022

Excellence Award in the 'Summertime Fun ONLINE' competition

At the heart of the grove, his gnarled old tree’s twisted branches and leaves stretch to shelter the hill, covering it in a blanket of vibrant ruby coloured leaves. The sun’s rays shine through the branches of the colossal guardian of the glade like a patchwork of light and shadow, woven by the gods. Surrounding the majestic ruler, his verdant guard stands, protected and peaceful under its foliage. Everywhere his leaves land is as calm and tranquil as the very earth he stands upon. Unchanging. Unmoving. Yet… exactly where it wants to be.
The woody, mossy smell drifts through the air like the leaves dropping from the branches. Swish. Move here. Swish. Move there, going as the wind commands. His branches snake through the skies, splitting as they wish so they are the many hundred heads of a thousand hydras. The wind whistles and sighs through his branches, picking up leaves and dropping them as if they were searching. The rough branches that split into V-shapes willy-nilly provide plenty of resting places for the peaceful animals and leaves so long as they are aware of the slippery moss that wraps around his wood as a jacket of dark green.
The Autumn air is as fresh and sweet as honey. The last of Summer’s bountiful harvest, a gift from Mother Nature herself to the quiet little grove, hangs off the few lucky trees who are now giving back to their community, who are in need of food and shelter under the monolith custodian. His leaves are like tiny little flames with all the colours ranging from bright yellow to blood red. They spiral and twist and turn, an unorganized nightmare for some, but an unimaginable dream for others. All is serene and undisturbed, and the entire grove seems to sink down and sigh, at peace.