The Were-Oak of Burton Road

 The Were-Oak of Burton Road

The first time I witnessed the transformation I was startled to say the least.  I had lived on Burton Road all my life and we were all, rightly so, extremely proud of our Heritage Oaks.

I was strolling, as was my custom, along the road, enjoying the view of those oh, so magnificent trees, when one of them, small, but still impressive, shifted slightly.  I thought at first it was just the breeze but then I rubbed my eyes and stared in astonishment.  Where, a mere moment ago, had stood a tree, now I saw an incredibly beautiful young man.  As I started towards him, he shifted again and there was nothing left but a tree.

I could have wept I was so disappointed.  Instead I boldly walked up to the tree and placed my hand against the bark.  

"Please come back."  I begged.  "I won't tell anyone."

But there was no reply.

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When I told my sister Judith about my vision, she surprised me by telling me that she, too, had witnessed such an occurrence.

"Only once." She said.  "But I always knew it was real.  I even bought a mask, a were-wolf mask, of course, because who ever heard of a were-oak?  Anyway, I wore it several times, walking alone at night, hoping I might lure him back. But no luck."

           She laughed.  "I still have the mask."

"You mean the one you used to wear at Halloween?  I remember that.  You still have it?"  I asked eagerly.

"Sure.  You want to borrow it?"  She kidded me.

"You bet."  I told her.

So, I too, took to wearing a mask on my nocturnal outings, but I, too, had no luck.  One incredibly moon-filled night, in a fit of desperation, I took off the mask and I flung it down at the base of the tree -- THE tree -- the one I had seen transformed.  I flung myself, weeping, at the base of the tree, and then I stood and threw my arms around it.  I hugged it tightly, my tears still flowing.  And then -- then he was there -- clasped in my embrace.

Later, he told me "I can't help it.  Whenever there's a full moon, I feel such strange urges come over me."

"I thought it was a person who turned into a creature."  I said.

"Well, mostly." he agreed.  "But often it is the other way around -- flora or fauna can become briefly human.  No one seems to notice, though."

As you might have guessed, I saw him only rarely over the years, but I loved him deeply and I think, I hope, he loved me in return.

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Sometimes, even now, living alone in the Ghost Forest, I can almost think I see him still, proud and free, part human, part Oak tree, as perhaps he was meant to be.  And I mourn, I grieve, I long, for that past time when we all roamed as creatures of the woods.