14-05-2025
Ring on Ring
Memories growing ring on ring, secured by stones slotted in and locked together, forming the walls of a sacred building.
It wasn't the physical stones the place was built of that raised it to that sacred status but rather the memories built inside; from weddings to funerals and everything in between. Sometimes the walls were filled with prayers, and sometimes when these prayers went unanswered, they morphed into pleas and then into curses.
This was the case some centuries ago in a town too small and rural to have a doctor within reach, when a plague struck with enough force to render even the strongest farmers breathless, as though fate had deemed their hearts unworthy and held their lungs in her cold grasp; squeezing till they gave out. Despite their shaking, aching bones and the pale, mocking sunlight refusing to lend its warmth, the townspeople worked together to pick up shovels and dig their loved ones a place of peace outside of that sacred building, a place of eternal rest.
As the last tree's buds blossomed into leaves and the last plague-ridden corpse had been planted into the earth, something happened that could be described as either miraculous or coincidental (depending on how much hope lives within you). By each weathered headstone a plant began to sprout; filtering out the scent of decay in favour of something fresher ... the sheer liveliness of the new atmosphere almost tangible.
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More time passed and as the walls of the building crumbled, the plants grew until a tree had risen by each grave, dripping sweet sap and watching as, with the graveyard now abandoned, children came to explore and play.
The trees observed in their soft, strong silence, watching as they grew alongside each other, memories, growing ring on ring, a cycle of weddings and funerals.
