Elizabeth Vogt

Honors in Creative Writing

Helen G. Scott Prize for Creative Writing – Fiction

Excerpt from “Hollows”

When they got to the tree it was nearly dark. Carina climbed through the opening in the trunk. Rex followed her in and sat down beside her. She pulled a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of her costume dress. It was a printed-out web page. She held the creased paper by the trunk’s opening, where the frail light could help her read it aloud.

“A tree hollow or tree hole is a semi-enclosed cavity which has naturally formed in the trunk or branch of a tree,” she read. “They are found mainly in old trees, whether living or not. Hollows form in many species of trees, and are a prominent feature of natural forests and woodlands, and act as a resource or habitat for a number of vertebrate and invertebrate animals.” She looked around at the rotting bark, then continued.

“Hollows may form as the result of physiological stress from natural forces causing the excavating and exposure of the heartwood. Forces include wind, fire, heat, lightning, rain, attack from insects, bacteria, or fungi.”

She stumbled over physiological, excavating, exposure, but the way Carina read the words made them feel vital and serene to Rex, like a prayer. She handed the paper to him. He touched the mossy walls. “That’s sad,” he said. “Don’t you think?”

“I don’t think it’s sad,” said Carina. “It’s a normal part of forests. And now it can be a habitat for others. Or for us.”

Rex wondered which force had excavated the heartwood of this particular tree—feasting organisms, decades of rain, a fierce bolt of lightning, the wind. Then he imagined all of these excavations, happening simultaneously, an instant and infinite carving, transforming the space into something new.