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Timber
The Story Of an Egotistical Lumberjack,
A Hunter,
A Woodpecker,
And a Really Big Tree

{Tyler Sasabuchi}

A shrill cry sounded throughout the dense forest, the call of a hawk as it searched the day
break for a morsel to feast upon. The morning was just rising above the low hills on the horizon,
and cast a warm ambiance across everything in sight. The forest was just beginning to stir, the
deer coming cautiously out, sniffing into the air for any sign of danger. The squirrels and hares
darted about, already running amok at full speed, desperate to collect enough food for the day.
A single owl voiced its final call of the night, giving the small rodents of the area a chance to
breath a sigh of relief.
As everything begins to stir, the first signs of life are seen in a small clearing within the vast
expanses of woods, inside a well built but modest cabin made from the very woods it resides
within. It was built years ago by a lumberjack known only as Samson, who had inhabited this
area for many years, outside of society and away from the bustle of modern life. He had not
seen another person in months, long enough to drive most people to the brink of insanity, but
not him. For he was as steadfast as the trees he felled, as independent as the wolverine that
prowled through the forest, looking for its next meal. He hardly spoke or made any noise
outside of the forceful grunting that exertion sometimes caused, but this was exactly how he
preferred it.
Now, Samson was a mountain of a man, at times hard to distinguish from the bears that
frequented these woods. Standing six foot five when shrugged, and weighing more than
multiple other men combined, he was a force to be reckoned with. His size, coupled with his
gruff face (half of which was covered in a healthy layering of beard) made for his appearance as
a true mountain man, which indeed he was. He would often wander the trails he created with his
monstrous feet, admiring the vast expanses of trees and foliage, stopping around midday to rest
alongside a small river, that in spring, contained a fair run of salmon. Occasionally he would
wander from this path, hoping to find a tree of such quality to cut and produce lumber, whether
he needed it or not. He had always appreciated nicely cut and formed planks, and even now he
had enough wood to build a castle that would impress any of the old kings.
On one such particular day, after a fair and beautiful hike through the morning lit woods, he
felt a peculiar draw on his mind that persuaded him to return home early, although what it was
he couldnt exactly place within himself. Even amidst the doubt he had of the feeling, he had
learned that his instincts usually served him well, and decided to return home in a more paced
manner. Starting off from the stream, he wound through the towering giants and over the
massive boulders, on a journey that would make the most professional hiker jealous of his
stamina. He bounded through the forest, impressive for a man of his build and stature, it was
very much akin to seeing a mountain pick itself up and move to another location.
The closer he got to his cabin, the more the feeling built upon his person, growing and
spreading like an insatiable itch. By the time he neared his journeys end, he had broken into a
sweat and was tearing through the forest, more akin to a charging bull than a man. He tore
through limb and leaf, focused only on this feeling of dread growing within him. Upon
approaching the clearing, he finally slowed, so as to near the possible danger more safely, and
became acutely aware of the silence that had fallen on the forest. Not a sound was to be heard,
the absence of the usual chatter striking the giant as unbearably disquieting. Try as he might, he
could not begin to think clearly about the situation, his focus was too much occupied by the
combined effect of the silence and his instinct.

He sat there for long minutes, which seemed to pass as an eternity while he dwelled there in
those bushes, trying to formulate an approach to the situation. Finally giving up on any form of
a plan, he settled with grabbing a large branch, as thick as any mans torso, and set it upon his
shoulder with arms tensed. Stepping carefully into the clearing, he at first saw nothing, and
cautiously proceeded further into view of his fine home and began to circle the building, hoping
to catch a glimpse of anything that would render this feeling of dread accurate.
Slowly sidestepping around the cabin, he caught sight of a flash of color, one that was in no
possible way natural. Tensing his massive arms even more, he let out a mighty roar and charged
where the object had previously existed, intent on defending his territory. As he came around
the porch, a shout resounded through the dense foliage as a tall, middle aged man fell to the
side, diving out of the way of the charging mountain. Narrowly missing the man, Samson
swung the branch round into the side of the cabin, breaking it upon impact into numerous
pieces, shattering the silence he had previously noted.With a gasp the other man stood, and
began stammering in an attempt at explanation, but managing to get nothing understandable or
comprehensive out for some time, forcing Samson to grab him by the collar and threaten him
into proper english.
I..I apologize, sir, I was simply out hunting, and was following a woodpecker, and.. was
all the intruder could stammer out before the living wall interrupted him gruffly.
That's fine, I don't care about hunters. But why were you at my home? he stated, no
sympathy or emotion in the voice, only a hint of curiosity was to be found.
Well, sir, as I said I was following a bird and..and the lumber pile you have, it is of quite
nice quality. I was a carpenter for years, by profession, and I was admiring your work the poor
fool answered, fearing that the brute now interrogating him would take offense, he shrunk down
even more, a feat which had seemed impossible. With a hearty laugh, Samson's whole body
shook, the resounding thunder echoing deep into the trees. Caught off guard by this sudden turn
of events, the hunter merely stood, staring in confusion as this hearty giant laughed with such
immense volume and depth, enough to put even the most joyous of men to shame.
Little man, I am glad you admire my work. There is no finer lumberjack in all of the world,
not a man nor beast can cut as I do, with such perfection and beauty the mountain returned
after his fit of laughter had subsided, (leaving him quite a hearty shade of red and short on
breath). The meek hunter still had no idea of how to respond, and began to nervously chuckle
along, for fear of ruining the mans mood. Continuing after the silence of the hunter, Samson
began to recite his knowledge of the trees and the wood, his ego and bravado enough for twenty
men.
Surely, you have never seen nicer carving than this? For I am the greatest in all the lands,
unequaled in my craft. I built this fine home with my own hands and sweat, constructed from
the finest lumber to be found on earth. Nature gives me the meager and uncultured resources,
and I in turn, create works of true and astounding beauty he stated, without any sense of
humility or remorse, believing his self to be the god of his craft.
Ye, Yes, it is very nice. I do appreciate your work, I have never seen, better, in all my
years replied the now petrified hunter, hoping to make his leave as soon as possible. Nervously
eyeing the tree line, he wondered how fast this beast of a man could possibly move. But he

neednt have worried, for by this time, the giant who, as was previously noted, is more of an
isolationist by preference, had tired of company. Looking the man up and down, Samson's
mood suddenly shifted, and he ushered the terrified man out of the clearing, sending him on his
way into the forest.
After making sure that the hunter had gone, Samson retired to his home to rest and eat,
intending to bed early so as to go and fell another tree on the morning for a project he was
undertaking. He would have to travel a ways to find the right tree, one of the perfect condition
and size to birth his masterpiece from. After a warm supper and a comforting ale, he lay down
in bed, content and satisfied with his day, and already making plans for the cutting he would do
the next.
The vocalizations of the forest had woken him as always, he had grown accustomed to this
natural alarm clock of his, and knew the animal every sound belonged to by heart. Laying in
bed, he admired the cool air and crisp sounds of the forest, taking in the essence of the woods.
As his eyes slowly started to close again, a silence once again fell over the forest, causing him
to re-awaken in moments. Dumfounded by the silence that occurred yet again, he sat up
pondering it, deep in thought. He rose and dressed, and stepped out onto the porch, looking
about the crowded trees.
The silence still reigned, though as he stood there, he noticed another sound that was
picking up. It was one of creaking, a sound suggesting age and poor health, one not often heard
in this young forest. Confused, he looked about, searching for the cause of the sound, and after
determining that it came from behind his home, ran around to the back as the noise built to a
thundering crescendo. Arriving at the rear of the home, he watched in horror as one of the larger
trees in the forest rent itself apart, and started to fall towards him. Splintering and creaking in
agony as gravity took control of it, the towering tree fought to stay upright but had no strength
left to use. He could only stand there, shocked and in horror as the massive evergreen came
down on top of his beautiful home, crushing it and grinding it into the floor of the clearing, as
though with an acute vengeance. This hideously old and uncut tree came to a rest on his home,
destroying the years of carving and effort he put into the cabin, working restlessly to make the
most glorious piece of art known to man. As he remained in front of the ruins of his home, in
awe of the events that have just occurred, the lone woodpecker who lived within the tree
alighted into the air, coming to a rest on a branch above Samson, looking curiously down upon
his now humbled form.

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