The Old Man and Nature

There were some who saw the old man as rather eccentric. But only a few.

Everyone else knew that he was a raving lunatic and not to be trusted.

For his own part, Old Man Jeff didn’t see himself as mad, although he readily admitted that he was rather different from most everyone else. He lived in the forest, while those in the city avoided it like the plague. More importantly, he survived in the forest, a feat few could pull off for more than a day. But this was a mere incongruity, to be tolerated in and of itself. It was for other, far stranger reasons that the townspeople avoided him and his little cottage in the woods.

Old Man Jeff claimed that he talked to nature.

“Surely you admit that it is at least a possibility,” naïve newcomers invariably remarked when told of his strange claims. After all, how else could a lone, elderly man survive in the woods with nothing more than the clothes on his back and a long branch as a walking stick? The forest was far too dangerous for such a person; it was too dangerous even for a dozen strong young men armed with saws and torches, as had been proven numerous times.

The townspeople ignored such comments, unwilling to accept the old man’s outrageous claims. He talked to nature? Piffle! Foolishness! Stories to tell little children to get them to sleep. We are adults, they replied scornfully. We do not believe such foolishness. And invariably, the newcomers quieted down and accepted it as a norm of life next to the cursed woods. After all, what did it matter if a lunatic claimed this or that nonsense? It wasn’t as if it meant anything in the real world.



Old Man Jeff did not mind the close-mindedness of the townspeople. He rather liked living alone, as it was. Without the noises that humans inevitably made by just existing, he was more able to concentrate on communicating with nature. It was, after all, his job.

For her part, Nature was a nice enough young gal, Jeff thought to himself as he poured the tea. She was very mild mannered, despite the often violent actions that went on within her, what with the deadly beasts and the poisonous flora of the forest in which she made her home. To be sure, she existed everywhere, but her physical manifestation resided in the cursed forest, which was not cursed, as only Old Man Jeff knew, but merely very well-protected.

“I am at my wits end, Jeffrey,” Nature said plaintively. “These creatures scar my body, dirty my breath, pollute my blood! They are getting worse and worse as they expand, destroying more and more. Some days, I just feel as if I should—oh, thank you, Jeffrey.” She accepted the teacup delicately, the smooth skin of her hands belying any evidence of the scars she spoke of.

She drank deeply and gave a sigh of satisfaction. “Your tea, as always, is superb, Jeffrey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The old man smiled faintly. “’Tis only because you provide me with the finest tea leaves, milady.” He replied, his voice still strong even as his body shrank with age.

“Oh, you are too modest, Jeffrey. I swear, you must do something with the leaves, for never before I met you have I tasted such a brew.”

“You flatter me, milady.” Jeff smiled at the other’s delight as he sat down across the small table from the young goddess.

“Haven’t I told you to stop calling me that?” Nature asked, giving a mock frown.

Jeff’s smile never wavered. “Only every day since I met you, milady. One wonders that you haven’t given up yet.”

“I? You are the one who must give up. In any case, what was I talking about? You interrupted my train of thought.”

“I do not remember, milady. Nothing of consequence, I imagine.”

“Oh?” Nature said triumphantly, tilting back the last of the tea and placing the cup back on the table. She stood and pointed a finger accusingly at the old hermit. “You can finally wipe that eternal smile off your face, you old trickster. I know what you’ve been up to all these years.”

“Oh?” Jeff mimicked, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Oh yes. At first I thought it was coincidence, but you do it far too often for that to be true.”

“What, pray tell, is it that I do, milady?” Jeff asked, looking mildly up at his guest.

Nature threw her arms up in exasperation and sat down with a thump. She didn’t answer, instead holding her cup out for a refill. Jeff filled it, and she sipped at it delicately, eyeing the old man as she drank.

“So that’s the job you’re always saying you’re here to do, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Every time I start to get angry, you always interrupt me, always doing just the right thing to throw off my wrath. That is your job is it not? You are here to protect humanity.” It was a statement, not a question.

Jeff did not immediately reply. He drained his cup, and refilled it from the teapot in the center of the table. He sipped at it, and then looked across the table at his guest. His smile widened slightly.

“Took you long enough, milady,” he said, the hidden laughter showing through in his voice. Then he grew suddenly serious. “But please believe me, milady: I am not your friend solely for this reason. I greatly enjoy your company, and I must say, the leaves you bring me do make the finest tea I have ever tasted.” He gave a crooked grin, looking for the moment as if he was a young, gangly teenager, rather than an aged hermit.

Nature sighed. “I know. Any fool can to tell that you are a truly kind soul; it is why I revealed myself to you in the first place.” She returned his grin. “If it wasn’t for you, there would be none of you left alive anymore. I suppose I should thank you; I would not be me if I let my emotions take control. You do both your people and I a great service, Jeffrey of the woods.

“Now, some more of that tea? No matter how much you flatter me, I still say you must be doing something with it.”




Back in the town, a pair of young boys sat on the grass with their father, watching the sun set, their backs to the cursed forest.

“Dad,” asked one. “Why does everyone hate that hermit in the woods so much?”

The father snorted, and took a deep puff on his pipe. “That old fraud? Hmph! He’s never done an honest day’s work in his life since the day he was dropped from the womb! Never done anything for this town and these people, not like us real men. Take me for example, I cut trees for firewood and keep the town warm. What has that old fraud ever done for the town? Nothing! And I’ll thank you not to speak of him again in my presence. The thought of such a person disgusts me.”