The Mountain and the River

A fable...

There was once a mountain that reigned over a vast forest. It stood tall and brooding above the wilderness made up of old, wise trees, their bark silvered with age. The lakes in the forest mirrored the bejeweled blue sky and bushes blazed with color in every season. It was a happy home to a host of enchanting creatures.

At the heart of it all flowed a river, clear, agile, and restless. It wound its way through the forest, nourishing root and wing alike, its waters were the lifeblood of the region’s lushness. But the blustering mountain, was never pleased.

“This forest,” he glowered, “is mine. I made it. I mark it, shelter it, give it majesty.” He would never stop rumbling and spitting at the river. When rains fell and the river swelled, the mountain would curse her for it. “You have no bearings, Too wild, too wayward.” When she mirrored the mountain’s own dark shadow, he raved and ranted at her for being a disgrace to the beauty he had created.”

The forest whispered warnings. The ancient trees, whose roots had drunk deeply from the river’s goodness, bent their gnarled heads and pleaded, “Careful…..She is silent and deep. She remembers.”

But the mountain scoffed. “She needs me. This forest gives her meaning. She winds her way here for her own sake and not mine. Let her leave if she must. She will return for she is nothing without us.” And thus, the mountain kept rattling the river.

The forest and its ancient inhabitants fell into an uneasy hush. Leaves grew still. Birds quieted and ravens sighed. But they all feared the mountain and dared not say more. The river flowed on, veiling her wrath in silence at the angry outbursts.

Until the storms returned, bringing relentless rain. The river darkened again, gathering amazonian force to push through mud and detritus . In doing so, it swept over her banks. The mountain exploded when it saw the river’s chaotic form. The explosion was cataclysmic and tore the skies apart, ejecting fire into the face of the gods. Such was the force of the mountain’s fury, eagles in flight were cindered and the breasts of heavenly doves turned to soot and ash.

The river shook, seethed and turned crimson with rage. “Enough,” she whispered, dashing into a hidden cleft under earth and rock. In a flash, the river vanished into an abyss, cutting her way through dark stone and forgotten crypts. Then she rose again, into sunlight and warmth, in a faraway land of gentle plains and hills. There she laid her silt, coaxing gardens from the dust, birthing orchards from unassuming grounds.

Back in the forest, the old trees waited and waited for her return. It was desolate without her musical flow and her vital breath. But years swept past and she did not return. The sage trees gave up and died. The soil turned acrid. The forest shriveled and turned to thorn. The animals, bright-eyed and quick, departed to other forests.

The mountain waited and brooded.
“She will return,” he muttered. “Any day now.”
But the river did not return.
The mountain grew bitter and hurled threats into space.
“You’ll never see me again!”
“All the better,” the river murmured from far away, “not to see your rage.”
“You’ll never hear from me again!” He growled.
“All the better,” she said, “to have silence in place of your roaring and ranting.”

Then she added, cool and clear…
“You forget, you are a mountain, unmoving and rooted to your place. I am a river, I can change my course. I didn’t need you. You needed me. And you should have thought of the consequences of shattering the earth and creating a different path for me. Now I’ll only return when you have crumbled to dust.”

The mountain fell silent for an epoch. Not in peace or agreement but in bitterness. The river did her thing, as always.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. Your comments are welcome.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

A wonderful story dear Divya. Loved the magnificent description in your lines. The mountain and river remind me of people. The mountain, hard faced, rigid and inflexible. The beautiful river changing course, meandering flexible and living. I know which one I would prefer to be. A lovely read for me this morning. Have a perfect day.

Chris 🌹

[DIVYA]

Thank you so much, dear Chris. I simply love your review and the thoughts you've shared on this story. I too would want to be the river! Have the strength to keep moving.
Sending you wishes for a lovely day, dear friend. ❤️

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you, you too Divya ❤️

[Betty Hermelee]

Beautiful poetic prose Divya; I liken this to a metaphor of human relationships; one person is always the stronger ; and the fighting and anger; do we not have this presence in a relationship??? I love the banter, the descriptions of the forest and the river and their behaviors toward each other…. Fabulous piece my dear friend!🌸
Warmly B🌷😊

[DIVYA]

Thank you dear Betty. It can be such fun, speaking about life in fables! I'm so glad you enjoyed this story. 💕

[Betty Hermelee]

I did!!! and I always do!!!
Warmly, B

[Vol]

Divya,
This could easily be published withe illustrations as a cautionary tale for young people.
" eagles in flight were cindered and the breasts of heavenly doves turned to soot and ash."

Vol

[DIVYA]

Thank you very much dear Vol. Coming from an awesome writer such as you, its such a compliment!

[Vol]

Divya,
Thank you back... (I need to proofread EVERYTHING I post... I just can't type...)
read moreDivya,
Thank you back... (I need to proofread EVERYTHING I post... I just can't type...)
Vol

[Neha agrawal]

This is beautiful. A quiet storm of emotion wrapped in a fable. Powerful, sad, and freeing all at once.

[DIVYA]

Thank you very much Neha. :)

[Thomas W Case]

Beautiful work. Powerful.

[DIVYA]

Thank you very much Thomas. I really appreciate it.

[petec3638]

This must be ENNERDALE
In the 1920's it waken over by the Forestry Commission and planted with fore trees
The fire trees were harvested - leaving barren ground
An environmental group decided to plant native trees - They ran out of money
Let us leave it to nature
A family of bevers came and began to make home building dams
Now only foot or cycle travel is allowed
A lovely peacful 25mile walk to the issolated Youth Hostel (Used by coast to coast walkers

[Grumpie]

Wow, I got goose bumps! This imagery is very near and dear to me, but I feel I have never understood it. You wrote the very emotion I had yet to grasp. Thank you!

[DIVYA]

Thank you so much, Crumple dear.I so appreciate your kind review!

[Tania Mo]

Where I actually come from _ we speak mostly in fable and this is smartly done.

[DIVYA]

Thank you so much Tania. I appreciate your visit so much. Yes, fables are indeed a clever way of putting things. 💕

[Arundass TP]

Really i loved poetic description of forests in this story. Nicely written story

[DIVYA]

Thank you very much, dear Arun. I hope you're well.

[Arundass TP]

Sure. Welome friend