I Want to Be an Acadia Tree by Bethany Jarmul
Roots worming beneath the warm earth, branches reaching forth towards time, trees waving their wings with the westward wind, trunks imperceptibly trembling. But most trees are passive recipients of violence—the ax, woodchipper, the lightning bolt, pests and pestilence, insects, the hungry mouths of animal—squirrels, deer, guinea pigs, giraffes, sloths, koalas, kangaroos—half the zoo. Only one tree species fights back. When animals like antelopes gobble up its leaves, Acadias mass produce toxic tannic acid to deliver to the antelopes’ tongues. They not only save themselves, but warn others—emitting a cloud of ethylene gas that rides the wind, a smoke signal triggering a preemptive prescription, an anti-trauma response, protection for the ones the tree loves.
“My writing group didn’t “get it.” They thought it was an acceptance of violence, when I intended it to be the opposite—to communicate a desire to protect others.”
Bethany Jarmul is a writer, editor, and poet. Her work has appeared in numerous literary magazines and been nominated for Best of the Net and Best Spiritual Literature. She earned first place in Women On Writing's Q2 2022 essay contest. Bethany enjoys chai lattes, nature walks, and memoirs. She lives near Pittsburgh with her family. Connect with her at bethanyjarmul.com or on Twitter: @BethanyJarmul.