Once upon a time, in a very distant forest, there was a very deep valley. It was called the valley of the wooden deer. It was a valley where a very rare species of deer lived, unique in the whole planet. People called them wooden deer, not because they were made of wood, they were made of flesh and bone, like all of them, but their antlers, yes, were, and they grew branching upwards like the fingers of a tree in the full moon.
Once a year, male deer change their antlers and shed them completely. Morir para vivir is repeated todos para sus adentros. This happens at the end of winter, the beginning of spring, an act that gives way to the flowering of a new antler that will grow little by little on top of its head. At that moment of dispossession, males feel unprotected, defenseless, vulnerable. There is nothing to defend them anymore. What they don’t know is that the rest of the males also live immersed in this same feeling, so if they are lonely, they will keep and hide among the weeds.
During those months you can’t see them, but at the end of summer the antlers have completely sprouted again on the head. Males become fully visible, this time prepared to show themselves in front of groups of females and mate in autumn during heat. To do this, they mark their territory with shouts and fights. They face body to body impacting against their horns. The movements are slow, almost, almost seem rehearsed, as if the two had agreed on an orchestrated dance to avoid unnecessary damage. This ritual is repeated year after year since the first deer that stepped on the ground.
What I haven’t told you yet, is that when a wood deer’s antler falls to the ground, it takes root and a tree grows from it. The tree grows and red fruits like cherries come out of it. And what I haven’t told you either is that whoever eats those cherries can turn into a deer during the time that the cherry remains inside the body. The effect lasts an exact day. Be human, rat or crow, and these can see and feel how a deer lives.
These new and fleeting wooden deer cross the forest wherever they want. Some at a gallop, with the force of the rearing of their legs or grazing placidly at the side of a path. After the day, human, rat or crow appear asleep under a fir tree. The interesting thing is that when you wake up you can remember your trip as if it were a dream. Knowing that they can always become a deer if they eat the fruit of the cherry tree. To be a forest again. To be wind again
The inhabitants of the valley keep their secret for everyone who comes following the path of the deer to learn how to die and live again.
Author: Eduard Costa
Illustration: Gustave Doré
