In the beginning...
First life was found in the cells that recklessly rode the surf of the primordial ocean. Some banded together into vast floating mats and were thrown upon dry land. Many turned to dust and blew away, but some savored the soil and sweet rain over the salty sea and endured. Over time, they became plants, and those that anchored strong roots grew to become trees.
Trees shared bits of news with each other by the rustling whisper of their leaves throughout groves. They produced seeds by the thousands, and each retained the memory of their past. One day, they recognized themselves, and became the first of all living things, to know they were alive.
Filled with hungry mouths, the ocean remained as dangerous as ever, and all manner of creatures hunted and fed on each other. To escape, some fish began to pull themselves onto land and shed fins for legs. The coastal forests of the oaks adopted and called the first creatures with four legs, salalis. They offered them shelter in their leafy crowns and small trunk-hollows. They produced more nuts than could ever sprout, and happily offered them as nourishment.
More years passed, and the climate began to change. The warm seasons of growth were shorter and a bitter cold settled upon the forests. In violent storms of ice and wind, the limbs of trees were shattered and the youngest and most fragile creatures died.
Unable to leave, the oaks whispered an idea for escape to the salalis. They told the salalis to use their broken branches and bark to ferry themselves and the tree's children across the water to warmer climates. For this service, the salalis and all of their descendants would always be welcome to make their homes in the trees.
But the salalis were slow to understand, and their first attempts were disasters. The branches rolled in the water dumping both salalis and acorns. They lashed branches together and watched them flip over in waves. Compelled by repeated ice storms and cold they tried different ideas.
Fearing disaster was upon them, one salali began to gnaw on the bark and pith of a stout branch until it was hollow. Because of its high sides the acorns did not spill out. His mate had watched swimmers darting through the water, and came upon another idea. Chewing on the front and back of the log, she made a tapered wedge like a swimmer.
The salalis assembled as the small log was pushed into a pool of water. A salali jumped in, it rocked, but did not tip. Acorn after acorn was placed inside and it remained upright, becoming more stable with the added weight. Encouraged, the salalis began to build a fleet. At the same time, perfect acorns were gathered and stored in dry, safe caches.
Finally it was time to leave. Heavily laden, the salalis bid the trees farewell and paddled away in their gnawed canoes. For years they traveled, planting nuts, watching the trees grow and then sending a new armada south again to continue the planting.
The salalis created songs to pass along the promise made with the oaks. Because the oaks had survived the great cold, the songs became known as the Live Oak Lullabies, because they were aLive. To this day, the songs are still sung as lullabies to the descendents of the salalis. And their descendents continue to hide nut caches, and make their homes in the safety of the trees.
Trees shared bits of news with each other by the rustling whisper of their leaves throughout groves. They produced seeds by the thousands, and each retained the memory of their past. One day, they recognized themselves, and became the first of all living things, to know they were alive.
Filled with hungry mouths, the ocean remained as dangerous as ever, and all manner of creatures hunted and fed on each other. To escape, some fish began to pull themselves onto land and shed fins for legs. The coastal forests of the oaks adopted and called the first creatures with four legs, salalis. They offered them shelter in their leafy crowns and small trunk-hollows. They produced more nuts than could ever sprout, and happily offered them as nourishment.
More years passed, and the climate began to change. The warm seasons of growth were shorter and a bitter cold settled upon the forests. In violent storms of ice and wind, the limbs of trees were shattered and the youngest and most fragile creatures died.
Unable to leave, the oaks whispered an idea for escape to the salalis. They told the salalis to use their broken branches and bark to ferry themselves and the tree's children across the water to warmer climates. For this service, the salalis and all of their descendants would always be welcome to make their homes in the trees.
But the salalis were slow to understand, and their first attempts were disasters. The branches rolled in the water dumping both salalis and acorns. They lashed branches together and watched them flip over in waves. Compelled by repeated ice storms and cold they tried different ideas.
Fearing disaster was upon them, one salali began to gnaw on the bark and pith of a stout branch until it was hollow. Because of its high sides the acorns did not spill out. His mate had watched swimmers darting through the water, and came upon another idea. Chewing on the front and back of the log, she made a tapered wedge like a swimmer.
The salalis assembled as the small log was pushed into a pool of water. A salali jumped in, it rocked, but did not tip. Acorn after acorn was placed inside and it remained upright, becoming more stable with the added weight. Encouraged, the salalis began to build a fleet. At the same time, perfect acorns were gathered and stored in dry, safe caches.
Finally it was time to leave. Heavily laden, the salalis bid the trees farewell and paddled away in their gnawed canoes. For years they traveled, planting nuts, watching the trees grow and then sending a new armada south again to continue the planting.
The salalis created songs to pass along the promise made with the oaks. Because the oaks had survived the great cold, the songs became known as the Live Oak Lullabies, because they were aLive. To this day, the songs are still sung as lullabies to the descendents of the salalis. And their descendents continue to hide nut caches, and make their homes in the safety of the trees.