The Shrouded Green Mask
In a dark dense forest, centuries past, a green mask was hammered into a tree, held fast by an ornamental nail. Shrouded in the swirling mists of countless seasons, and framed by its bare, slate grey branches, the face on the mask contorted to the dreams of each icy evolution of man.
Meanwhile, cocooned inside their humming, neon lit, corridors of scholarship, the crusty investigators continuously scour their patterned parchment, in an attempt to lever the golden nail from its gnarled bark.
The all gleaming eyes, behind the mask, smile in defiance though and give forth an infallible sparkle, as the warming golden orb begins, once again to remove the glistening shroud of winter. Soon a flourishing cascade of leaves will encompass the mask, as yet another generation will skip amongst the flowing ferns and fire their dreams from a twisted yew, into the cloudless blue heavens.
The hidden man will smile his merry smile and blow his ghostly horn, whispering amongst the bristling branches and echoing about the hazy glades. The exquisite nail holding the ancient green mask, will forever be transfixed into the entangled roots of the rich tapestry of the summer greenwood.
Clement of the Glen