The Mesh

A plant draws a line between worlds.

It inhales carbon from the sky and uses it to snake ever deeper underground.

Eventually the line touches another root in the darkness, or the welcoming fingers of subterranean fungi, and the line is no longer alone.

All the lines are really one line. And if you pulled us taut, we would be measured in light-years.

It’s full of mysteries I’ll never understand.

And terrible creatures that make no sense.

Hello, little bee.

Who's there?

We were there when your mate laid her eggs. When you hatched out of your own nest, and when the tree you sheltered in was a sapling. We are everywhere.

The... the Mesh?

Spider Grandmother. Gaia. Mychorrizal networks. The Woodwide Web. We have many names.

Is that you walking in the flowers?

In a sense. The flower you rest inside is part of us. When you speak into its petals, you become part of us.

That figure is the Shade of a human echoing within us like a recording, unresponsive to our questions.

But perhaps...It would speak to you?