A Path of Poplar Trees
Fiction by Noel Foss-Griffiths
Forest in the Morning Light by Asher Brown Durand, Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington
The trees whistle as the wind passes through them, gust after gust struggling against the steadfast network of interlocking roots. Stalking down the path, she mirrors their unwavering nature; her orange hair flares to the side with each squall, but her steps remain postured, her gaze locked forward. Despite the roaring breeze, she hears the horse’s gallop far before it reaches her; the figure still a speck on the hill’s horizon when she spares a glance behind. Slowly, but starkly, her pace comes to a halt, the wind lowering its fury in response. The raging gallops get faster and closer, but she does not turn; she does not waver. Just like the trees around her, she stands tall, and when the rider of the horse meets her head on, she is trampled into the dirt.
By sunset, much of her corpse remained there, where she stood steadfast; other portions were spread as the hooves printed blood along the path, merging her unashed remains with the leaves that had fallen loose.
Slowly over time, the unused path became a mere alley through the flora. In comparison, her body had disappeared quickly, immersed and disintegrated into the dirt below. Though her reign was brief, her essence now joins the roots of the poplar trees, battling the wind for centuries.
Noel Foss-Griffiths is a 4th-year student within McMaster University’s English and Cultural Studies program. With a strong passion for writing, he dreams of one day publishing his own novels and becoming a professor; due to an inclination to teach, but a dislike of children.