The Phoenix

• Daniel Pearce, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2009

The once vividly coloured forest now lay flat and ebony; the thriving flora now either withered or reduced to ash. Previously, one would hear the light-hearted and undisturbed jests of forest creatures, but all was silent. The animals that would have once persisted to emit their unique sounds and frolic amongst the greenery were gone. The only sign of life was the spluttering creatures lying on the ground; the only movement was the eerie black smoke still left to linger and sway. The forest was silent. Not a sound, not a gesture. The fiery terror that had ripped through the helpless forest not an hour before had distorted the peaceful aura that once radiated.
From a crevice in the ground, a bar of charcoaled bark shifted slightly from its position. It was not a great motion, but the unearthly silence and lack of movement highlighted the tiniest details. Then it moved again, this time, more forcibly. As the ebony wood scratched slowly over the barren terrain, a leathery nose appeared from under it. It shuddered as it detected the bitter stench of persisting smoke. Despite the creature’s obvious disgust, it withdrew further from the burrow under the ground. First a short, furry snout, and then a whole head came to view. It continued to creep out from its safe house, until a wombat was completely visible. It slowly sidled over to a neighbouring burrow and let out a raspy groan, seeming to cry desperately for a response. The forest returned to silence, before another hoarse moan was heard from the burrow, and another wombat crawled out from it. The two wombats approached one another and nudged their noses together caringly. They had been reunited once more, after surviving the terror.
A loud, melancholic whistle emerged from the high branches of the charred remains of a tree. Sure enough, a brilliantly coloured rosella sat clenched on a branch, calling out and returning sound to the abnormally speechless forest. It continued to emit high-pitched, mournful signals out into the still trees, before slowly being joined simultaneously by further melancholy of other creatures. Slowly the forest’s sounds began to return from the horror previously endured. As the forest’s unnatural silence was brought back to the familiarity of the resonating whistles and groans, the forest continued its leisurely rebirth.
The ashen ground lay flat and colourless, as the creatures continued to emerge from their various hiding spots. Below the ground, however, the lush, green sprouts of returning bushes and grass slowly ascended to the surface. Soon enough, the forest would be once again filled with new, rich vegetation that had risen from the dark depths of a tragedy.
And, like a phoenix from the ashes, the forest began its beautiful and meaningful rebirth from the blazing cataclysm that naturally and inevitably befell it.