The cathedral of trees got illuminated at the eve of Spring.
I tried to decipher the messages recorded on the trunk of the tree, but I didn’t understand the genetic code. I thought of a biomechanic with the specialty in insects, who would have been held captive. The mechanic would try to communicate with possible saviours by making an insect to write a message to some visible place. In that case the strategy has been a failure. I think the situation is so over already long ago, and I hope it ended in good terms.
One can see many things in the clouds. Yet this is not the case, if there wasn’t any preconceptions of forms to be seen. It’s therefore obvious that the reality itself is an illusion built on concepts and meanings.
An advanced race could use insects to write hieroglyphs. Secret information, which would only be understood by a civilization advanced enough.
Or, it’s a language by itself, which we are not able to make sens of, but of which meanings are whispered by the descending light shaped by the trees, the sound of the trees moving; the silent movement of the thawing ground vegetation, reaching for the light, like stretching out after a long rest….