The Forest That Listens

Aisulu's class went on a hike into a pine forest. In the morning they rode the bus, singing songs and looking out of the windows, and then they climbed out at the edge of the woods and gasped. The pines stood tall and straight like candles, the air smelled of resin and warm needles, and soft moss sprang under their feet.

The teacher gathered everyone in a circle and gave them one single rule. "The forest is someone's home. We are guests in it."

The children set off along the path. At first they chattered and laughed, rustled their snack bags and shouted to each other. Two boys spotted a young pine and decided to snap off a living branch to make swords.

"Wait," the teacher said quietly. "Look down."

The ground was covered with dry branches. Then the teacher pointed at the young pine. Where the boys had already bent the bark, a drop of resin had appeared, clear and sticky.

"This tree is alive," she said. "There are dry branches everywhere. Why break a living one?"

The boys looked at each other and each picked a dry stick instead. The sticks turned out even better, light and long.

A little further on, something rustled in the grass, and everyone saw a hedgehog. He was stomping along about his own business, snuffling, with a yellow leaf stuck on his prickles. One girl crouched down and held out her hands.

"Can I take him home? He can live with me!"

"The hedgehog is already home," the teacher smiled. "His burrow is here, and his beetles, and his friends. In a flat he'd feel cramped and sad."

The girl sighed, but she nodded. The hedgehog gave a snuffle, as if to say thank you, and disappeared under a fern.

Then the teacher suggested a game. "Let's be quiet for one whole minute and just listen to the forest. Afterwards everyone can tell what they heard."

The children froze. At first it was completely silent. And then the forest seemed to begin to speak. High in the treetops the wind sighed. Knock, knock, knock went a woodpecker on a pine. Somewhere a little bird squeaked, and an old branch creaked.

And then the forest opened up. A hare flashed between the tussocks and sat up, twitching its ears. And in a clearing, very close, stood a deer. It looked straight at the children with big dark eyes and did not run. Nobody moved. Aisulu even breathed very softly, so as not to frighten it. Then the deer calmly turned and walked away deeper into the woods.

"It wasn't scared of us," Aisulu whispered.

"Because you behaved like good guests," the teacher whispered back.

Then everyone told what they had heard in that minute. One boy had heard a pine cone drop. Another had heard a bumblebee. And Aisulu had even heard her own heart beating.

Before they left, the children gathered up all their own litter, down to the last sweet wrapper. And under an old spruce they found rusty cans and a bottle that someone had thrown away long, long ago. They took those home too.

On the bus Aisulu looked out at the dark pines and thought. The forest notices everything. It doesn't say thank you in words. It just shows you a deer.

That night at home Aisulu lay in bed and listened again, the way she had in the forest. Outside the window the wind was softly rustling. She imagined that somewhere far away, in a quiet clearing, the deer was falling asleep, and the hedgehog was snuffling in his burrow nearby.

Goodnight.