I am expecting movement but my feet hit the floor solidly and there is no imbalance.
Walking across the polished heart of the tree, I reach a basin and open a spigot to release a bowl of nutrient mix from buildings phloem
The outside stairs, lovingly carved into the circumference of the old trunk are a magnificent work of art in themselves and I revel in their sun-soaked warmth against my bare feet and the sensation of living art as I lean my body against them. I make the journey down as slowly as I can, reveling in the touch of my new home.
Another dweller is on the way up. They smile and remind me that it is can be cold outside in this season and maybe I should wear a garment if I’m thinking of going further into the forest.
I've no intention of leaving home today so I thank them for their thoughts and continue my journey safe in my nakedness.
The kitchen is buzzing with people, some coming, some going, many, I hope, staying. I want to learn more about my new abode.
We don't cook inside of the Tree but someone has prepared warm soup and delivered to the kitchen and I gladly fill the bowl and my stomach with vegetables and broth. There is a choice of breads and I chose to tear off a piece of an interesting looking loaf that has the fragrance of mushrooms and the forest floor.
A person sitting near the kitchen bench offers to show me the chamber where the mushrooms grow. Apparently it is down in the roots of our home. I give my thanks to them and we make a plan for later in the day.
The lights flicker intermittently, the cables that move the dynamos are tensed and loosened as branches move in the wind. There are batteries available should people want them but the dwellers here have chosen a more natural feel to the lighting. We don't need the power for anything anyway, our rythms are marked by the rise and fall of the Sun, the Moon’s circuit and the seasons as we all circle the giver of life together.
