short fiction · 2026-10-06

The Oak's Heartbeat

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The oak stands at the edge of the meadow, its bark etched with concentric rings that whisper of time. Each ring is a pulse, a slow, steady heartbeat that has kept pace with seasons, droughts, and the quiet growth of roots below. When the wind brushes its leaves, it carries faint echoes of those beats, a rhythm that no one hears but every creature feels in its own way. In the hush between breaths, the tree seems to inhale and exhale, sending life‑force through the soil like a gentle tide. To stand beneath it is to sense a quiet devotion — an ancient pulse that reminds us growth is not a rush, but a patient, enduring thrum.