The Wandering Kodama - 1. Chapter 1

The Wandering Kodama

The Cedar Grove

The cedar grove in Sugisawa was dense and contained ponds, misty marshes, and moss-covered trees. Although there were insects, birds, and small animals present, the forest remained relatively quiet. A stream flowed next to a narrow footpath leading to the Buddhist temple, moving over rocks and beneath large fern fronds. Small fish swam in the water, and birds landed on the bank to drink. Occasionally, small flashes of light appeared among the branches, which were probably caused by sunlight reflecting off dewdrops.

Today, the usual quiet of the ancient cedar forests was interrupted not by its natural echoes but by individuals engaged in a purposeful task. The objective was to select young trees intended as a gift for Canada.

The group consisting of Japanese botanists and their Canadian colleagues proceeded along the forest path with little conversation, maintaining their focus as they walked through the towering cedars.

Upon arrival at the temple, the group’s guide paused and said, "Mr. Davis, these saplings are robust and healthy; we have deemed them the most suitable for you to take with you."

Jerrod Davis respectfully examined the cedar saplings, gently touching their needles. He then turned to Itsuki Sato and replied, "These are beautiful. We deeply appreciate and are honoured by the opportunity to receive such esteemed trees."

Sato offered a polite smile, though he privately questioned the appropriateness of gifting these trees. Such species already thrive along the west coast of North America. However, my responsibility is to prepare this offering on behalf of our government. With this in mind, he nodded courteously. "Many believe that these trees are the dwelling place of spirits known as Kodama. Therefore, we advise that they be treated with the utmost care, as causing harm to a tree is regarded as a serious matter."

Davis appeared surprised. "Is that so? What is believed about these Kodama?"

Maintaining a composed expression, Sato responded, "Kodama are considered the shy guardians of ancient forests, embodying our respect for the natural world. It is traditionally held that felling their host tree may bring misfortune or even fatal consequences for those who disturb the tree's vital spirit. Under threat, Kodama are said to be capable of imposing curses or acting with notable hostility."

Davis blinked and answered carefully. "I see. Well, I can confirm that these saplings will be treated with the greatest respect and reverence. We will not be felling them."

Sato nodded, indicating to the two workers that they could begin digging and preparing the year-old trees for travel to Canada.

The two botanists watched the men working. They used burlap to gently wrap the branches of each tree. Then they dug around the tree and under to free the root ball, which was then also wrapped in burlap. The saplings were placed into two wooden crates which would hold them securely. The I.D. tags, required by the Canadian Border Services Agency to admit the trees, were attached securely to the burlap and the crate itself.

As the final sapling was wrapped, the forest's whispering echoes grew louder. So loud that the men stopped their labours for a few moments. They straightened and looked around themselves. The trees glistened brightly. The workmen spoke to Sato in Japanese.

Sato gazed up into the full-size cedars and shook his head.

Davis watched the exchange and noticed the whispering reverberations. From the corner of his eye, he'd noticed the water droplets held by the tree's needles, shining in the sun briefly. I wonder where the Kodama are hiding. He smirked just a little.

As the workmen prepared the crates, underneath the burlap, a small figure remained perched upon a slender branch. Its dark, round eyes blinked, as the little manifestation grabbed for support while the uprooted tree was lifted from the earth. The form of the spirit became more defined as it gripped the tree limb, and it observed the situation with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

The Journey

The workmen transported the crates from the forest to the parking area. As they walked, Itsuki Sato provided the Canadian botanist with additional context regarding the cedars.

"Many of these trees are over two thousand years old, and some are thought to be well over seven thousand years in age. In the Shinto tradition, tall trees such as these cedars are deeply significant. It is believed that a deity once descended from heaven along a cedar tree, rendering them sacred and explaining their frequent presence at Shinto shrines. Furthermore, cedar wood is highly valued for its strength and is utilized in a range of applications, from furniture to hashi."

"That is truly remarkable," Jerrod replied as he walked beside Sato. "I am aware that you have reservations about this situation, Itsuki. I can appreciate, at least to some degree, why these trees are meaningful to you. Please know that I intend to care for them responsibly."

Sato glanced at Jerrod. "You are correct; I am not pleased with this arrangement. However, I trust your integrity and believe you will protect our trees."

"I will," Jerrod affirmed.

Upon arrival at the parking area, the men transferred the two crates into Jerrod's van. Following expressions of gratitude and traditional farewells, the men bowed respectfully before Jerrod entered the vehicle. He fastened his seatbelt and spent several moments reflecting silently, gazing through the front window at the forest.

In the rear compartment, concealed beneath burlap, the kodama remained on its now stationary tree. The tiny spirit recognized the darkness as artificial and contemplated both its location and the safety of its tree, which, so far, remained unharmed.

When the van reversed, the tree shifted, prompting the creature to brace itself against the branch as the vehicle navigated the bumpy and uneven road. The kodama reacted with discomfort as exhaust fumes entered the rear of the van.

Jerrod drove to his hotel, which was located near the airport. He parked and then opened the rear doors of the vehicle. He quickly inspected the trees. Speaking softly as he examined the wrappings and dampness of the root ball.

"Oh, they look okay…safe enough."

Within its burlap-covered tree, the kodama blinked as light pierced the holes in the hessian sack. It listened to the man's voice. Then, standing on the branch, it stared through the gaps in the material, at the large human before it. Confused in the unaccustomed light, its large, round eyes gazed out. It was aware of humans but had never been so close to them. The little spirit sent whispered echoes to the other trees, words only his kind and the trees could decipher.

The botanist heard, no, felt the sound, and suddenly had to take a breath. "What was that noise?"

As quickly as he'd experienced the soft whispered sounds, they were gone. "That's crazy. I think I need some sleep." After another quick look at each of the trees, he closed the van and double-checked that the doors were locked.

Once the man was gone, the kodama lovingly touched the tree and then descended to the bottom of the trunk. It curled up around its roots and went to sleep.

The next morning, Jerrod was up early. He showered, shaved, and then made his way to the restaurant for breakfast. As he ate, he texted his assistant to inform him that all had gone well.

Finishing his meal quickly, Davis walked out to his rented van. He opened the rear doors and again had to step back from the low mournful sounds he'd heard.

"Jesus. What is making that noise?" He carefully checked around the trees but found nothing. "Never mind. I need to finish prepping these crates for the plane." He shook his head as he placed the tops of the crates over the trees and locked them into place. The required import documentation was attached to the top of the containers. Davis patted the boxes gently before closing the van doors. "Let's get going."

The return flight to Canada was uneventful, though the airline cargo workers wondered about the sounds they were hearing as they loaded and unloaded the plane. Strange, whispered words they didn't understand and couldn't quite make out.

Once off the plane, the trees were moved to a Customs holding facility nearby.

Jerrod arrived at the quarantine centre to settle the trees and water them. The trees had to be held for several weeks to ensure they were free of pests and disease that could spread to local flora. He unwrapped the trees so they would get the light.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Jerrod stared at the saplings and noticed something. "Strange, this one has a weird glow, like we are outdoors in the sun. A new colour variant, perhaps? Hmm. I'll make note of it." He reached out to touch the branches. He spoke to them softly, aware that others may think he was crazy. Jerrod Davis didn't much care if they did.

New Soil

Six weeks later, accompanied by Joe Bigelow, his assistant, Davis was at the Zoo preparing for the arrival and planting of the new saplings in the Trees of Japan section of the new, Trees of the World exhibit.

Davis was proud that the trees were doing well, as he spoke to the directors of the Zoo.

"It couldn't have gone better, frankly. The saplings are thriving here, I'm happy to say. The trees of the world project will be beautiful."

"It certainly will be in time, Dr. Davis." Marie Olsen, one of the Directors, said, "We've heard from the Japanese. They are asking about what we will be saying about the trees. We are sending them the copy this morning for their approval. I think since they were so cooperative, we can do that for them."

Jerrod nodded. "Asking for their input is a good idea. I know the botanist I worked with was rather unhappy about sending his trees. He told me about spirits that live in the forests and how gods travelled down the trees. It was interesting, but I think we should take care in what we say."

The director nodded. "We'll keep that in mind, Dr. Davis, thank you."

At that moment, the truck carrying the trees pulled into the exhibit area. The driver jumped out, walked to the rear of the truck, and opened it.

With Jerrod supervising, Joe and a couple of botany students moved the new saplings to the Japan section for planting.

As the holes were dug to the botanist's specifications, Jerrod began to unwrap the trees with his assistant's help. "Carefully now, Joe. We have to make sure these live."

Joe Bigelow nodded, "They will. We got everything they are going to need, Doc."

The kodama watched from within its tree. As the burlap was unwrapped, the little spirit grew frightened and dug into the root ball to hide.

The two botanists gently removed the wrapping, opened the roots, and lowered the tree into the new hole. Inside, the now terrified kodama felt the earth settle around it and the tree. It didn't understand why the new soil was wrong.

Several hours later, the workmen, zoo staff, and trucks were gone. The saplings now began to grow in the new soil. Darkness fell over the new world forest exhibit.

From its hiding place in the roots, the kodama climbed out with caution. Its natural glow startled nearby nocturnal neighbours like the great horned owl and wolves, who sat on their haunches and howled.

Now curious, the kodama walked through the newly growing trees from Japan, India and finally China. It examined them, whispered to them, and waited for an answer. Its head cocked, confused when no echoing response came.

Strange Signs

The Trees of the World exhibit was being developed on one side of the zoo near the perimeter fence. Beyond the high fence was a busy road. On the other side of the road was a tall apartment complex. This night in her tenth-floor bedroom, overlooking the zoo exhibit, was thirteen-year-old Maureen O'Neil.

It just happened that Maureen was staring out the window at the zoo. "I hope I can see some animals or something."

The young girl turned the light off, so she'd be able to see better. After peering out the window for ten minutes, she saw the faint glow near some trees grow brighter. She watched it as it moved through the trees. "What could do that? That's weird."

Maureen took the problem to her parents.

"Perhaps a firefly?" Her father offered. "I've heard that some Australian animals glow under UV light. If that's true, then maybe others can too."

"I don't think this needs UV, Dad. Whatever it is moves around the zoo a lot." Maureen was getting nothing further from her parents, so she returned to her room and documented in her diary what she'd seen.

Over the next two weeks, Maureen watched the tiny light travel throughout the zoo. The next Saturday morning, she went to the zoo with her parents' permission. They had purchased a season pass which allowed them to visit anytime. Maureen was careful as she crossed the road, entered, and made her way to the Trees of the World. She looked at the bamboo grove and the new cedars.

"These are what I see from my room."

The young girl walked around, getting as close as possible to the saplings. She was unable to touch them, but she looked at them carefully.

"Hello," said a man as Maureen knelt beside a cedar tree. "Are you interested in trees?"

She looked up at the zoo volunteer. "Well, I'm interested in these ones." Maureen got to her feet. "I can see them from my apartment, and every night I can see something glowing. And the glow moves. I came to see if I can figure out what it is."

"Oh, that's very strange." The volunteer was quiet for a moment. "The night patrol said the same thing to me this morning when I arrived. That over the past couple of weeks they've seen something moving that glows, but when they get near, they find nothing. They've been hearing weird things as well."

Together, Maureen and the volunteer looked carefully at the cedar saplings. They could see nothing of importance that would explain the glow or echoed whispers.

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Over the next two months the cedars barely grew. This fact concerned the two botanists, and they returned to attend the saplings again, concerned for the sacred trees in their care.

"Could it be the soil, Jerrod?" Joe stared at the drooping plants.

On his haunches, the botanist sighed. "Could be. We can try taking samples again. See if we should change the PH. We can compare the makeup of the soil again to their home. Test the water too." Davis looked at his assistant. "We have to make this work."

"Maybe they just need more time to acclimatize. What do you think about that? We know that plants want to live, fight to live. Possibly time is what they need."

"You could be right. Dammit." Davis got to his feet. "Run the tests on the Canadian and Japanese soil samples again. Let's figure this out."

"Gotcha, boss."

Once it closed and the sun set, the kodama wandered around the zoo. It felt a kinship with the creatures in cages that had been uprooted from their homelands. It sat next to the tiger's enclosure, watching the big male pace back and forth, his giant paws leaving a deep groove, proving where it paced night after night. Blinking its moon-like eyes at the beast, with its heart full of pity, the kodama whispered mayou, mayou repeatedly, until the zoo filled with its echoes.

Later that evening, after she was sure her parents were asleep, Maureen dressed, and on tiptoe, took the door fob, her key, and left the apartment.

Traffic on the road was quiet, and she crossed the four lanes carefully. She trotted along the zoo's fence until she found a dip that she could slip under. This act set off a silent alarm in the security office. A security patrol was sent to the area.

Emma Quinn and Kenji Tanaka were on night patrol this week and headed out toward the fence line.

"Probably another dog crawling under," said Emma. "Hopefully, not a wolf crawling out."

"Maybe. Wait." Kenji stopped. "Do you hear that? What is it?" His face wrinkled, confused. "I've been hearing and seeing glowing things around here a lot. Have you?"

"Yeah, it's weird." Emma closed her eyes. "It sounds like my oh over and over."

Kenji's eyes widened. "It's not my oh, it's mayou. It's a Japanese word. It means lost."

"Oh, wow." Emma slowly looked around. "Someone is lost? But who? Who is saying it?"

Tanaka sighed. "I don't know, Em. But let's keep looking."

Meanwhile, Maureen crept quietly through the thriving bamboo grove. "It grows like mad. Like half a metre a day!" Then she found the cedars, and sat down, heedless of the damp ground. "They don't seem to be doing well, like the bamboo. That's too bad. Poor trees." She reached out to touch one.

The young girl sat unmoving, hidden from the wandering patrol by the trees and signs.

Watching her from the branches, the kodama stared at the quiet girl. It had seen her before and liked how she talked to its trees. Feeling she was no threat, the spirit walked away from the trunk to the end of the branch. It stood there for a moment before summoning its strength and allowed itself to be seen.

Maureen looked up. Her eyes widened as she spied the tiny spirit glowing. Sensing its compassionate and sensitive nature, she whispered, "Hello. What are you?"

In answer, it raised one twig-like arm, then pointed to itself, to the sky, and then eastward. Maureen frowned, following the gesture.

"You… want to go?" she whispered. She watched as the kodama repeated the movement.

Aware of the tree's home country, she said, "Home, to Japan?"

The kodama’s glow dimmed, and a gust of wind rattled the cedar’s needles as if they were sighing.

"I wish I could help you," Maureen said softly. "But I don’t know how."

Silence stretched—then, faintly, words softly echoed, "…help… you…"

Maureen's breath caught. "You can speak?"

The kodama tilted its head, eyes glimmering, but only another echo came, "…home…"

The word seemed to hang in the branches like mist.

Fading Light

Another week passed and the cedars worsened. Their needles were browning at the tips, and the bark was cracking. No matter what the botanists did, they were unable to halt the decline.

Everything around them failed to thrive. Nearby flowers wilted, and the bamboo's growth was stunted. The wolves were constantly restless and howled both day and night. Visitors and staff noticed that the air at the zoo felt cold and damp, even when the sun shone brightly.

Maureen, who was still grounded after being caught sneaking back into the house, begged her parents to step in. "But they are dying. The little elf said they need to go home, back to Japan."

Her father grew angry. "That's ridiculous. If the trees are dying, flying them back to Japan will not be of any help. And how are we supposed to do that anyway?"

"We could call the zoo and ask to talk to someone in charge of plants."

"Nonsense. I'm going to work." William O'Neil put on his shoes. "School starts in a few weeks. You will need to focus, young lady, and not on trees and elves!"

Maureen hung her head. "Yes, Dad."

Once her father was gone, Maureen explained everything to her mother. "I'm not making things up, Mom."

Brigitte O'Neil gazed at her daughter and thought, "Maureen isn't one to fudge the truth, or lie, or leave the house without good reason. Something is going on with her."

"Are you listening, Mom?"

"Yes, honey. Put on your shoes and your jacket, it looks like it might rain. I'll get the zoo pass and my purse. We're going over there."

"Really?" Maureen was on her feet. "You believe me?"

"I believe that something isn't right. I don't know if it's spirits or what, but I trust you. Let's go."

Maureen ran to her mother and threw her arms around her. "Thank you."

Storm & Revelation

The wind was already rising when Bridgette gripped her daughter’s hand and hurried across the zoo’s darkened paths. Lights flickered in the storm, and the sound of wolves howling rolled through the exhibits.

"Are you sure?" Bridgette asked, pulling her coat tighter against the rain.

Maureen’s face was pale but certain. "I saw it, Mom. The little glowing elf. It’s in the cedar. And if we don’t help, it’s going to die."

Most people would have dismissed the story of glowing spirits as imagination. But Bridgette had seen the way the animals had acted, heard the whispers from other people about strange lights in the new forest exhibit. And deep down, she trusted her daughter’s eyes more than the zoo’s explanations.

They reached the Trees of Japan section just as lightning split the sky. The cedars bent under the wind, their roots straining in the loosened soil. Nearby, Dr. Jerrod Davis was already there, shouting orders to Joe and another student who rushed to secure the area. His face was set with stubborn pride.

Bridgette explained who she and Maureen were and what Maureen and others had been feeling and seeing.

Davis' face was set. "That's just not possible. These spirits, the kodama, are not real. They are just legends."

"Sir!" Bridgette called, raising her voice over the storm. "You can’t leave them here. My daughter’s seen what lives in that tree."

Davis’s eyes flicked to Maureen, rain streaming down his face. "She’s a child. There is no spirit—only fragile cedars. They will adjust, if we can just—"

But his words died as the cedars glowed.

The kodama emerged, brighter than ever, stepping from the trunk like a flame pulled free of a fire. Rain bent around it, never touching its pale body. Its round eyes glistened with sorrow as it raised its arms.

Bridgette gasped and clutched Maureen to her side, though she could not look away.

"There!" Maureen cried, voice breaking. "I told you!"

The wolves erupted into a wild chorus, their howls blending with the storm. Tigers wheeled in their cage, foxes barked in terror, and it was as if the entire zoo knew what was happening.

The kodama’s glow spread across the exhibit, turning the storm’s darkness into a green-white haze. The air shimmered, and for a heartbeat, the zoo fences melted away. Towering Japanese cedars rose all around them, trunks reaching skyward, their roots singing in the wet earth.

Bridgette whispered, awed, "It’s showing us where it belongs."

At last, the kodama spoke, its voice thin and flute-like but carrying even above the storm. "Home."

Davis staggered back, the truth now evident in his eyes. His pride cracked under the weight of what he saw. This was not a project, not simply a specimen for an exhibit, but a living spirit they had ripped from its grove. His knees buckled, and he whispered, "Forgive me… I should never have taken them."

Maureen tugged her mother’s sleeve, her face lit with tears. "We have to send it back."

Bridgette nodded firmly. "Yes. And this time, people will listen."

The glow slowly dimmed, but its meaning remained, burning in all of them: the cedars and the spirit could not survive here. It had to go back.

The Return

The cedar grove in Japan was still damp from the morning rain. Mist curled between the trunks, and the air smelled of resin and moss. Itsuki Sato, Jerrod Davis, Maureen, and Bridgette stood side by side, watching as workers lowered the weakened saplings into a hollow in the earth. Their roots, cramped from travel, spread eagerly into the soil as if they already remembered this place.

Then the glow began.

The kodama rose from the trunk like breath released, brighter and steadier than it had ever been in Canada. It lingered above the sapling, round eyes soft, body shimmering with relief. For a long moment, it simply hovered, soaking in the chorus of unseen spirits that flickered faintly between the ancient cedars around them.

Maureen stepped forward. "You’re … home now." Her voice cracked, not from fear but from the ache of goodbye.

The kodama tilted its head, then gave a small bow. It raised one thin arm, pointing at its own and then at Maureen's heart, before turning and drifting into the grove. Within moments, it was gone—lost among countless flickers of light, where it was once again united with its kind.

The cedar saplings stood taller, their needles trembling not with weakness but with life. Davis touched the bark, humbled. "It was never meant to be ours," he whispered.

Maureen stood beside Sato, and together they looked up at the vast trees overhead. The air seemed to hum, not with sorrow, but with balance restored.

"Thank you, young lady, for all you've done. " Sato bowed and Maureen returned it. He gave her beautifully wrapped gift. "A token of thanks. You are welcome in our country. Arigatou gozaimasu."

Sato also spoke to Bridgette and Davis before they all left the forest.

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On the plane back, Maureen showed her mother the gift. "Look what Mr. Sato gave to me, Mom." She held out a hardcover book, Forest: Impressions and Memories, 1989–2017 by Yoshihiko Ueda.

"Oh, sweetheart, how wonderful." Bridgette took the book and leafed through it. "You know, all of this is so difficult to believe."

"It is, Mom. But it's been amazing."

"It has, sweetheart, it has."

When they returned to the zoo weeks later, they noticed that various young native maple trees had been planted where the cedars had previously been. A small sign read:

Every tree has a home. To take it away is to take its spirit, too.

Visitors walked past without noticing much, but Maureen always stopped, laying a hand on the bark of one of them. And sometimes—just sometimes—the leaves would rustle with no wind at all, as though something far away still remembered.

🌲 The End 🌲