Familiar Forests, Familial Forests

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Sometimes, when I look out of my window, I see people that I know.

But my window doesn’t look out to a sidewalk; it looks out to a forest, where there aren’t any people. A deciduous forest to be exact—the kind that I learned about in geography class last week. There are so many different kinds of forests. But, I know that the deciduous kind changes with time and season: flowers blooming and wilting, colours fading and coming back to life. And after admiring the view from my window—watching as the forest turned from winter, to spring, to summer, to fall—I realized that the forest outside was like the people I know.

Last week, it was foggy—mysteriously so. I couldn’t see beyond the marbled mist, and I didn’t know what to think or expect. It made me think of my birthday, and how secretive my parents were. Just like how I have no idea what goes on behind the fog, I had no idea that when they opened the door, I would be walking into a surprise party with all of my school friends.

The rain on the other hand is similar to my little sister. I’ve seen how the forest comes to life with each rainfall, as if it was desperately awaiting the downpour so it could awaken. How some animals come out of hiding to see it alongside the flourishing greenery. How the forest just seems to cherish the rain's presence, as if it were a gift! It’s just like the day my sister was born, all of us anxiously waiting for her arrival. And we greatly treasure the moment we finally met her—it was worth all the wait. I like to think that the forest agrees with me: the rain is worth the wait, too.

And in autumn, the leaves start to wilt and change colour. When they fall at their maturity, I’m reminded of my older brother. My brother has grown up. He even lives on his own, like an adult. Much like the leaves, he grows up and gains wisdom, maturing, and eventually falling from the family tree to blaze a new trail. Even when he’s gone, I know I’m still his best friend. He visits during the holidays and in the summertime. But right when the leaves start to change, he packs his bags once more. It’s like he and the leaves work together to leave and come back at the same time. Even though fall is beautiful, I can’t wait to see him again when summertime comes around.

I always used to look at the forest and think about how familiar it felt. These days I know that it's not just familiar, it’s familial.

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Published January 15, 2022

Written by Layla Al-Rawi ~ Edited by Anjali Pathmanathan and Anvita Chitrapu ~ Graphics created by Fiona Xu