Listen to the Trees and Other Curious Tales

Half past four and the effects of an early winter are already being felt. The hoar frost from the previous night still dominates the ground covering, especially where there has been shade.

It has coalesced with the fine powdery snow that had drifted down from the grey skies over several preceding cold days.

Early afternoon and it seems to Jonathon and his partner Leah that night is drawing in a little early this day, although it is not. There has been a noticeable drop in the outside temperature and the light does seem to be fading early, adding to the effect. Heavy clouds are slowly moving in to darken the sky and reduce further what little light there is.

It is no more than the onset of bad weather, possibly, a precursor perhaps to a storm.

Jonathon has taken a quick look outside of the front door to see how his car is fairing in the cold snap. Ice is building up on his windscreen.

He is pleased that during a service of some two weeks ago he requested that the engine coolant was refreshed and the appropriate amount of fresh anti-freeze solution added. He is feeling the coolness of the motionless air and the slight ground mist that is starting to appear.

“Winter certainly seems to be coming here much earlier this year,” he thinks to himself. “Glad I sorted out my winter service early.”

This part of the town, a new development on the peripheral expansion of the old town, is susceptible to mists and probably has been so since ancient peoples reclaimed the land.

Local history tells that the ground in this area was predominantly marshy before some ancient people, possibly the Anglo-Saxons, drained it with a multiplicity of dug ditches. These are still evident today and can indeed be seen to run with trickles of rain run-off during wet weather. In this wintry weather these ditches tend to remain empty and are something of a slippery trap for the unwary walker.

There is a persistent dampness in this part of the township that always persists as winter approaches producing some impressive low-lying and very dense mists.

Generally these tend to be of the ‘normal’ sort through which vehicles and pedestrian simply have to take it easy and be careful because they can be deep, occasionally way over head height. This mist seems a little early in the year although it may seem cold but surely not that much or that damp this afternoon.

Jonathon has been hoping to give his car its much needed wash this last couple of days but with the onset of the fine snow and frost, it is not looking at all likely for some time to come.

The bleak sunshine has now all but disappeared to no more than a dull glow through the heavily overcast sky as the ground mist appears to be gathering. He gives up thinking about his car; he will go to work tomorrow in a car that deserves a much needed wash. He returns inside quickly to escape the sudden increase in the chill in the air.

He tells his partner of ten years, Leah, “I’m giving up on the idea of washing the car. It’s becoming frosty out there so it can wait until. And with this weather it will be soon filthy again on the long drive down the motorway to work.”

“Ok, love,” she replies. “It’s your car.”

Jonathon disappears into the kitchen to make a hot coffee for them both. Bringing the hot mugs into the living room, Leah is busy reading her latest library book, a romantic novel. Her mug is placed down onto the coaster sitting alongside on her little side table.

He does his best not to spill any of his drink onto the carpet while making his way to an easy chair and another side table across the room; Leah would not be at all pleased if he did spill any.

Leah is sitting near to the front bay window, at the end of the comfy settee. She takes a careful sip of the hot contents, places her cup back down on the small table and takes a further glance out of the window. Through the blinds she notices that the mist is no longer shallow and hugging the ground, but is now swirling in a dense mass at about waist height.

Jonathon noticed her glance out of the window and his eyes turn to follow hers.

“That’s odd,” he thinks to himself. “I’ve never seen it change that fast before.”

Placing his mug down, he decides to take a closer look at this strange weather. Out of the lounge and through the lobby he goes, being careful to close the door firmly behind him. Opening the front door he is determined to examine this strange sight up close.

To his amazement the mist now seems to have deepened even more so in the few minutes it took him to walk to the front door. In fact in the strange swirling mass before him, he is astounded to see it visibly growing even denser and yet still deeper. He stays inside the lobby watching in total fascination at what is before him.

“Why the hell is it swirling?” he asks himself out loud. “Five minutes ago all was still, there was no air movement, there still isn’t. I’ve seem nothing like this before.”

“What’s that love?” Leah distracted from her reading by hearing his loud voice coming through the thin wall.

The living room door is closed but these stud walls are sufficiently thin for conversation to pass through clearly enough, especially when it’s Jonathon ‘speaking’. Leah’s hearing is also particularly acute, which doesn’t help, and she has been distracted from her reading by Jonathon’s raised voice.

“Just looking at the mist again, love,” he replies loud enough to make sure she hears him. He didn’t need to raise his voice but Jonathon doesn’t consider that he speaks too loud simply as a matter of course.

“Whatever turns you on dear,” she responds, totally disinclined to consider why the mist might be of any consequence. “And you don’t need to shout, I can hear you all too well.”

This is something she is always saying to little effect. Jonathon still does not think that he speaks too loud and takes little notice of her constant comments.

“This is even stranger,” he now mumbles to himself trying to avoid Leah picking up on what he is thinking out loud. “The mist is swirling when it shouldn’t and it’s not advancing into the house. It’s stopping exactly at the doorstep. Now that’s weird; that is weird.”

Before him is a wall of swirling, tumbling, mist, a bit like clouds on their side.

It is somehow growing ever deeper and denser during the few moments he has been stood there watching. Yet it still does not come forward past him into the house, nor does the warm air leaving the lobby seem to make any impression on it.

It has rapidly become much deeper than the height of the doorway in which Jonathon is standing.

This is causing him some confusion. Not understanding what is going on before him, he decides, for some strange reason, to step outside to take a much closer look, as if that might help. He steps forward into the all encompassing coldness of the deep, white and grey mist and is surrounded completely in its uniquely quiet dampness.

Leah is still engrossed in her new novel and the romantic goings-on of the masculine lead character, a somewhat different type to her partner; she is dreaming away nicely.

Coming back to reality she glances up to notice, through the blinds of the bay window, what is now a very heavy mist outside. This looks nothing like her previous view of it some ten minutes ago.

“Where on earth is Jonathon?” she asks herself. “What’s he up to now?”

  She realises that Jonathon is not in the living room with her, nor has he come back inside to the lounge nor can she hear him in the kitchen.

“Why would he be there,” she considers to herself, “his mug of coffee is still hot and fresh.”

“Where on earth is he?” rising from her chair with some impatience she speaks out loud in the hope that he might hear and come running back to her.

Placing a flowered bookmark into in her book, she closes it with a firm snap. Having had her reading interrupted, the book is placed down with some annoyance onto the seat of the settee where she was sitting. She decides to see for herself what he is up to.

Entering the hall, the sudden downward change in temperature is very noticeable and shocks her sufficiently to cause a profound shiver.

“Oh you fool, why do you keep leaving the front door open, we’re not made of money,” she complains to the emptiness.

Resisting the urge to simply close the door on where he might be, she half swings the door closed and shouts upstairs, “Jonathon, are you up there?”

Silence is the reply.

She calls again, but louder this time, “Jonathon. Are you up there?”

Again silence; he has to be outside still.

Leah’s attention is returned to the wall of mist tumbling and swirling yet hovering it seems, outside of the front door. In her thin tee-shirt and jeans, she steps outside trying hard not to slip on the icy covering. The damp cold reaches deep inside her and the shivers become freezing shudders.

That’s when she notices a strange, low humming, sort of throbbing sound.

“Now what is he doing?” she asks herself. “The car can wait until the weather is better. Besides it’s just been serviced. What in hell is he up to?” Now she is becoming really annoyed and has to find out what is going on. Jonathon could be in some trouble if she finds he has been messing her about.

She goes back inside to take her heavy coat of the rack and pull it on. She swings an old college scarf twice round her neck, tucking in the ends in to her coat before fastening the fancy leather buttons. Placing the door Yale lock into the open position, she steps carefully through the front door. It swings close-to behind her but, of course, will not lock her out.

She calls out into the greyness, “Jonathon, where on earth are you, what are you up to. For goodness sake, say something.”

Silence, save for the humming sound, is the only reply she receives.

She calls out once more but much louder this time, “Jonathon, where are you?”

Another silence but this time it is punctuated by sudden increase in the low humming sound which also seems to change to a higher frequency note. She stands there confused by this, increasingly so, as the volume of the sound also continues to increase.

“The car doesn’t sound like that normally,” she thinks to herself, “or is that the result of the service?”

Leah ventures into the mist as far as their car with which she nearly collides on the slippery drive. The car is not making any sound as it has not been started; it is empty and perfectly silent.

“No sign of Jonathon here. Is he with a neighbour perhaps, or is he with whoever is making that odd sound? Perhaps someone is using a power tool, but in this cold,” she ponders.

She has never heard of any car make that kind of noise before. There is no sign of Jonathon, he’s not in their car nor is he stood anywhere near it as best she can tell in this thick mist.

The interminable loud humming suddenly stops.

“Jonathon,” she calls out loudly, hoping that as the background hum has ceased and in whoever’s company he currently is, he will realise that she is concerned at what he might be up to. He must know how cold it is. His coat is still hanging back in the hall on the rack and unless he is in a neighbour’s house he must truly be shivering out of control.

Still only silence.

It’s freezing cold now and despite the heavy coat and scarf, Leah is feeling the effects of the mist and a sort of panic that is building up inside of her.

Stepping back up the drive and in through the front door, the warmth inside the house removes one sense of cold but not the other internal cold. Her almost sense of panic, remains disconcertingly cold.

Pausing to consider what she is doing, she turns back to step outside once more only to see the thick, all pervading mass of white and grey dampness to be disappearing fast. She stands there with her mouth falling open wondering who has ever seen mist behave in this manner.

As the mist reduces to only ankle deep and is still disappearing, there is only the hard frost on top of the snow left. And then there is no sign of the mist or of Jonathon or of whatever was making the humming sound. There are no other cars, or anything else in the Close or for that matter. Any sort of mechanical device that could have been making a loud humming noise is silent.

In desperation Leah calls on the next door neighbours, with whom they have both been friends since moving in, but to no avail. They comment that they have not seen the mist that Leah cannot stop babbling about nor heard any humming sound.

Leah has a hard time keeping control of herself and starts running round the frozen close looking into other neighbours’ houses, up their drives and anywhere else she can think of.

Without falling over on the ice she returns to her friendly neighbours who take her in and help calm her down while phoning for the local police.

When a constable does turn up, two hours later, he advises only that Jonathon has not becoming a missing person, not yet as all avenues have not been fully addressed.

“Has he run away with a lover?” he asks much to Leah’s consternation.

“Definitely not,” comes back the curt response.

“Has he driven off or has he been a passenger in someone else’s car?” he tries again. “Is he simply in another neighbour’s house in the close, has Leah knocked on every door yet?” And so he goes on asking what seem like sensible questions but not so to Leah.

The next door friends make it clear that Jonathon has become a missing person and that this is what should be reported now; please can they have some action. Leah is almost incapable of making a coherent reply, she is so upset.

The policeman goes round the close, rather reluctantly, asking of Jonathon’s whereabouts, but to no avail, so he starts off the missing person procedure.

Jonathon didn’t appear ever again.

Leah became a permanently distressed lady and even into her latter years, never recovered from these events.

~o ~

Author’s Notes.  

This story is a compilation of many snippets of stories gleaned over the years pieced together into a single tale.

It does, however, reflect a particular theme common to almost all of them; the unexpected arrival of a thick mist into which people venture never to be seen again.

Some stories I have come across concern instances where UFO’s have been involved, others not but with the same end result.

If you have ever witnessed the unusual appearance of a heavy mist or fog, that shouldn’t be, take care.

Do not be curious and simply wander into it to take a look or else who knows what might happen. You also may never be seen again.

~ o ~