At Dawn, in the Forest

Dawn liked nature, especially trees. She liked all kinds of trees, fruit trees, pine trees, maple trees, birch trees, ash trees, oak trees, and olive trees. You name any kind and Dawn loved the tree. Trees were extraordinary in nature, according to Dawn. They were versatile. They could grow flowers, fruits, and nuts. They could give you protection, shade, or fuel. You could live in them. Trees gave thousands and thousands of living beings a form of housing. Insects, spiders, birds, and mammals could live in trees, even humans. Trees were magnificent but taken for granted. Even Dawn herself took them for granted.

Dawn and her brothers had built multiple treehouses in the forest they lived in, over the course of five years and…maybe…even more. Her brothers, Caspian and Finn, started building them when she was almost eight years old. Dawn watched first, for weeks she would observe how the two teenage boys planned, discussed and built the first treehouse. Caspian and Finn often fought while doing so. It was either about who was in charge or who’s idea was better, and often the two issues intertwined with each other in their arguments.

Dawn, the little girl she was, would just wait how it would play out. She would scan and study her two brothers, paying attention to their emotions, body language, and facial expressions. She thought it was better if Caspian and Finn would just fight it out. Dawn didn’t know why she thought it would be best, she couldn’t articulate her thoughts and feelings well, yet at that age, and even later in life she would still have trouble expression how she felt.

At a certain point and she didn’t know what had caused this change inside of her, or how this breakpoint came to be, but she stood up, dusted her annoying skirt off and said, ‘I want to help. I want to build this treehouse too.’ Finn had objected. He commented about Dawn’s age and he didn’t want to ‘play’ with his little sister. He was sixteen then. When Dawn had reached that age, she could somewhat understand her brother. It was a difficult age, a time where you were trying to find your identity and being labeled as childish was a major setback. At sixteen you wanted to be seen as eighteen, an adult.

But Caspian came to the rescue. He agreed to Dawn helping them. He was the oldest of the three and therefore held the most power in their sibling dynamic. This was one of the few times Finn didn’t fight his brother. He knew that Caspian had a weak spot for their little sister and so from that day on, three weeks before Dawn would turn eight, the three of them built together treehouses.

By then her love for trees only grew more and more by each day that passed and she would be up there in the tree, helping her brothers, doing exactly as she was being told. She knew how to do the basics by just observing them for weeks, but she also knew that it wasn’t enough. It was Dawn’s well behavior and her good listening that the fights between her brothers lessened. They both could be in charge which solved already half of their problems. When it was the three of them they – almost – worked in harmony, their energies lined up and a peaceful aura fell over them.

While in the trees Dawn could see more of the trees than when she sat there on the muddy forest floor. She saw how the ants walked up high and had made a colony in a hole. She noticed how many bird nests were made. She could see the birds even up close. And the most amazing thing was that she had become invisible to some of the forest life.

One time her brothers had to get materials that were too heavy for her to carry, so she stayed in the first, almost, finished treehouse (it had missed a part of the roofing on the right when you entered). And when everything turned quiet she could see them, deer. They were beautiful and up close to Dawn. She could see the white spots on their backs. She watched how one of the young stayed close to what Dawn assumed to be their mother. It stumbled a couple of times, not watching where they went. This, this, is what Dawn thought, this is what made trees so fascinating, cool, amazing, and loveable.

Dawn kept her love for trees to herself. She had never told anybody about it. It was her little but best secret. Her mother, Rue, tried to push her daughter on a more feminine path. Rue didn’t have any bad intentions with it, she saw her youngest child as a blank canvas. She couldn’t see, predict, or hint at what Dawn liked and disliked. Dawn was such a quiet person and whenever someone asked if she liked something Dawn would either ignore the person asking or shrug her shoulders.

The reality was that Dawn often disliked the things her parents and in particular her mother gave her, or made her do. But she was afraid disliking the said thing was wrong or bad so she kept quiet and let it happen. Helping her brothers was the first time Dawn had shown some kind of interest in something that both her oldest brother and her parents approved of it. Not many parents would like the idea of a seven – nearly eight–year–old climbing trees, carrying planks, and hammering wood together. But under the supervision of her brothers Dawn could help.

The more time Dawn helped building the treehouses – eventually they had seven – the more her personality started to shine through. The skirts and dresses were ignored and her Timberland boots became her favourite shoes. She read more and more about nature, mostly about trees, but nobody knew that. Her family thought she liked nature, but didn’t know the specifics. Her room got pastel and deep forest green walls, replacing the yellow – white – pink color theme. When she got her own television when she was eleven, Dawn became obsessed with nature documentaries, especially the ones narrated by Sir David Frederick Attenborough. Rue would come in late in the evening to check up on her, seeing if her daughter went to bed yet, and often she would find Dawn in front of her television, her head fallen onto her shoulder, asleep while the low voice of Attenborough echoed through the bedroom.

Dawn had a great collection of his documentaries on DVD, she even had doubles. Finn had never understood this. “Why would you want two, or even three copies of the same documentary? You will only use one.”

“Yes but what if I lose one, or break one, then I can use the spare. Jeeps and trucks have often more tires on the vehicle than they need to use, but they have them in case of emergency.” Dawn explained like it was normal to have several copies of the same documentary. She had three copies of Planet Earth and five of Life on Earth. The latter of the documentaries was the most special to Dawn, hence why the many copies. She had read that the documentary was extraordinary when it was broadcasted in 1979. It showed parts of nature, parts of animal behavior that were never recorded before, and it was the documentary that made Attenborough famous.

Dawn missed those days. The days when she would rewatch her favorite documentaries so many times she could replay them in her mind. The days she would come home grimy and sweaty from working on the treehouses. The days when she was alone in the trees watching how the leaves turned colors during the different seasons. She had taken those days for granted, she took the documentaries, her television, their treehouses, and the trees for granted. Because right now all she could do was watch a grey sealing, grey walls, a bright and intense led bulb, and a big steel door with a tiny window in it.

As Dawn turned her head, watching the door she could hear footsteps nearing. She recognized those footsteps. Soon, she knew, the door would open and show the one person she became to hate the most on this tiny planet. The door creaked open and behind it stood a bald man in a white coat. Jack.

“Hello sweetheart, ready for a new day?”