Tara and The Merlin Tree

At the precise moment that baby Jodi dies from complications during pregnancy in a hospital in Corvallis, lamb Tara is born from the ewe Jasmine at Leaping Lamb Farm twenty miles west, in Oregon’s fecundly-sopping coastal mountains. The keeper of the farm, a genial chap named Denny, witnesses the birth from afar. It takes place under the large maple at the southeast corner of the hay field, where the sheep had recently been let out to graze for the day. Jasmine hadn’t been expected to give birth for at least another day, so Denny and his wife Marie hadn’t yet brought Jasmine into the barn to place her in the proper birthing stall.

Denny notes that, apropos to the place of birth, and to the manner of the unexpected early delivery, Tara leapt out of her mother as if impatient to begin her life, and was on her feet bouncing about the field faster than any lamb he’d ever seen. And though he’s too timid to admit it to his wife and the owners of the property, and a bit fearful of appearing mad, Denny swears he sees a bolt of radiating blue light fly in from the upper forest and strike Jasmine just as Tara leaps into life.

Not ten minutes before, just to the southwest, in the mixed, lush green climbing forest constituting half of the farm’s acreage, situated just above the cultivated land of the farm, and unseen by any but the eyes of the forest creatures, a curious wonder unfolded. This forest has been untouched by the human inhabitants that have run the farm below since the mid-nineteenth century, established in this slot valley to provide milk and meat to loggers before the time when the convenience of modern technology allowed for the procurement of such supplies from Corvallis supermarkets. Here, surviving thanks to the untrammeled reverence with which the misty forest has been treated, lies the keeper of these woods.

Called The Merlin Tree, the three-century-old Big Leaf Maple towers above the surrounding maples to which it gave birth, matching the heights of the soaring conifers rooted adjacent to the mystic maple grove. Much as the gnarled staff of a wizard, the trunk of the great, moss-encased tree reaches out, as if leaning for something upon the forest floor, then divides into a three prong fork while shooting for the sky, as if attempting to ensnare a bird fleeing for the clouds. Near the base of the tree, in its hollow, is a fairy den, made by a mystic who intreated the forest nymphs to bless the giant while covering the hollow with a tiny door crafted nearby. She installed several similar doors over the hollows of some of the other larger maples ringing the magical woods, and upon the blessing of Mother Nature, whose spirit soaks this saturated landscape, the first fairies were immaculately conceived within the hollows.

The fairies immediately went to work upon the portal positioned beneath the canopy of The Merlin Tree, calling upon the forest creatures to gather and bend fallen branches between two younger maples, forming an arched gateway seven feet in height. The fairies then gathered small pieces of wood, strung them to cords of vine, and hung them from the branches such that they drooped into the gateway and might bounce off of one another in the breeze, echoing the call of the living forest, all the while singing the reincarnation incantation in the softly humming language lent by the gods before the birth of words.

As Jasmine moved towards the protection of the canopy of the much younger maple at the far corner of the hay field half a mile away, the fairies awoke, called upon by a force beyond dimension. Darting from their dens before spinning around and then up The Merlin Tree, they cast the spell that coaxed one of the forks of the great guardian tree to undergo its magical metamorphosis. The bark shuddered, then began to crawl and gather up its moss, soon peeling off the tree and sliding to the forest floor in the shape of a wooden man holding a trident staff. His eyes twice as big and beaming as the barn owl often perched in his tree, his nostrils as deep hollows, his smiling mouth as a moving carving upon the corrugated bark, his ears the enlivened leaves of the maple hanging around him, his flowing beard of moss hanging halfway down his trunken torso, his legs as borrowed limbs, he strode over to the portal.

Fairies encircling him, a few landing upon his shoulders while singing in their ethereal voice, Merlin let out a deep, softly resonating bellow before passing his staff through the portal, releasing the energy of baby Jodi in that instant. In the blink of an eye the radiant light plummeted between the ferns and trees, down the path, over the creek, through the fence and into the ewe Jasmine just as Tara came to be.

It’s clear from the beginning that Tara isn’t a typical lamb. She weans off of Jasmine quickly, is uninterested in the other lambs and, for some mysterious reason, is preoccupied with a particular area of Leaping Lamb Farm: the cabin, a part of the farm where visitors come to stay, connecting with the land and animals and reconnecting with one another absent the artificial intrusions of modern life, all while learning the laborious ways by which the small farmer struggles to find a niche in the food supply industry. As Jodi’s heartbroken would-be parents, Monica and Michael, futilely try to cope with the tragedy of her untimely death, searching for a healing retreat while fearing their marriage to be forever fractured by their fissured hearts, Tara keeps finding a way out of her pen, and is heard bleating by the cabin, sometimes circling it, other times gnawing and kicking at the door, as if trying to get inside.

A month later Monica and Michael arrive for their Leaping Lamb farm stay. Tara had been particularly active and vociferous the entirety of the day leading up to their late afternoon arrival, to the point where Denny and company had feared something might be wrong with her. And just as Monica and Michael emerge from their vehicle, Tara squeezes her way through the fencing of the hay field and runs to them, encircling the aching couple, then passing through and brushing up against their legs. Monica is immediately taken with the lamb, and not just because she’s cute. She feels like she knows her. Bending down to the lamb, Tara nuzzles her softly. Monica’s heart sinks, then rises higher, coming near to bursting, and, as Michael’s knees buckle and tears come into his eyes, his wife whispers to Tara:

“Jodi?! Is that… is that you?!”

Thereafter, the three are inseparable. Tara shadows the couple as they tour the farm and help with the chores, insisting on being by their sides. When they take the short hike into the forest and up the hill that evening, Tara follows. As they move west along the trail and enter the Fairyland at dusk, Tara becomes particularly excited. She hops about as a soft hum fills the air, Monica and Michael looking around for the source that seems to be coming from everywhere at once. Proceeding, they’re soon marveling at the magnificent maple lording over the realm. Finding the portal positioned back behind The Merlin Tree, they approach with a mix of fear and fascination. Michael hesitates at the arched entryway when, suddenly, Tara shoots between his legs. At the exact moment that she passes the threshold, the soft cry of an infant is heard. Both Monica and Michael feel their hearts spill over, and begin to sob. Tara stands between them, softly bleating as the couple pets her, then embrace one another. She sleeps at the base of their bed that first night, and on it, between them, the second night.

An hour before they’re due to depart Leaping Lamb Farm, the couple calls to Denny, telling them their tale. They relate the fact that they know Tara to be their reborn daughter, come to comfort them in their time of overwhelming need and inconsolable pain. They wish to buy the lamb. And, upon hearing their story, the owners of the farm, Naomi and Nick, feel an instant kinship with the couple, relating their own story of consoling rebirth. Fighting back tears, they tell Michael and Monica of the barn owl that came to visit them after the death of Naomi's father, falling trustingly into her hands before being released to fly back into the consuming shadows of the forest. The owners give the couple the lamb for free, who bring the newly adopted family member back to their large rural lot on the outskirts of Corvallis.

Tara is loved like no lamb before her. And, many years later, having healed her parents and lived the fullest of lives in her wooded lot, sleeping at the base of their bed every night, she passes precisely at the point where the fairies of Leaping Lamb finish honoring her. The passing of a mystic rebirth is marked by the fairies’ gathering of choice cedar bark from the surrounding forest. Then, at the base of The Merlin Tree, the fairies come in close together and, with ceremonious song, dance between one another while holding the bark, passing it through and around itself in the exact pattern permitting the creation of a figurine. And there, hanging from the lowest limb of the great father tree, beside the figurines of the barn owl born of Naomi's fallen father, and the squirrel remade of the mystic that once enchanted and skirted about the hallowed grounds, hangs the figure of an infant riding atop a lamb.