Welcome to The Hollow Tree
This is a seasonal offering, shared at the turning of the seasons—the Spring Equinox.
A time when day and night rest in the same sky,neither one reaching further than the other.
For just a little while,the world remembers how to hold two things at once.
Light and shadow.Beginning and ending.The quiet and the becoming.
Some people mark this day with calendars.Some with traditions.
And some simply feel it—
in the way the air shifts,in the way the ground softens,in the way something inside themdoesn’t need to choose just yet.
This story lives in that kind of moment.
A moment where two feelings can sit side by sidewithout needing to be sorted or solved.
A moment where being in-betweenis not a problem—
but a place.
Let’s begin.
🍃 Forest Friend Whisper
[Chime]
“Some days don’t ask you to choose.
They just ask you to noticewhat’s already sitting beside you.
If two feelings show up at once…you don’t have to send either one away.
You can make a little space between them—and sit there for a while.
That’s what I do.”
[Chime]
🌗 The Day the Sky Learned to Share
A Hollow Tree myth for the ones who notice more than one feeling at a time.
And now, the tale.
⸻
Not far from the Hollow Tree, where the forest thins just enough for the sky to be seen in full, there is a place where the light behaves differently.
It is not brighter there.Not darker either.
Just… balanced.
The kind of place where shadows don’t stretch too long,and sunlight doesn’t try to stay past its welcome.
Most days, no one notices it.
But twice a year, the place remembers something very old.
And the sky does something it almost never does.
It shares.
⸻
On one such day, a child named Lio wandered there.
Lio had a way of noticing things that didn’t quite fit.
Not wrong things.
Just… things that didn’t line up neatly.
That morning, Lio had woken with two feelings in his chest.
One felt like sunlight.
Light, bright, almost like laughter waiting to happen.
The other felt like dusk.
Heavy, quiet, like something ending that hadn’t quite said goodbye yet.
He didn’t know what to do with both.
Most people seemed to carry their feelings one at a time.Or at least… that’s how it looked.
But Lio had both.
And they wouldn’t take turns.
⸻
So he walked.
Through the edge of the trees,past the moss that hummed when stepped on gently,until he reached the clearing where the sky stretched wide.
He sat down.
Pulled his knees close.
And waited, the way children do when they don’t know what they’re waiting for.
⸻
The day moved slowly.
Not dragging.Not rushing.
Just… even.
The sun climbed.
The shadows followed.
Neither one trying to outrun the other.
⸻
After a while, Lio noticed something strange.
The light around him wasn’t shifting the way it usually did.
It wasn’t leaning.It wasn’t stretching.
It was holding.
As if the sky itself had paused to listen.
⸻
“Do you feel it too?”
The voice came from nearby, soft as wind through early leaves.
Lio turned.
At the edge of the clearing — where the light and shadow touched — someone was already sitting.
Lio wasn’t sure how long she had been there.It felt less like she had arrived…and more like he had only just noticed her.
A child.
Or… something like a child.
Not quite older.Not quite younger.
Just… steady.
⸻
Lio nodded.
“I feel two things,” he said.
The other child tilted her head, considering.
“Yes,” she said. “That happens today.”
⸻
“Today?” Lio asked.
⸻
“The day the sky remembers how to share.”
She gestured upward.
Lio followed her gaze.
For a moment—just a moment—the sky didn’t look like one thing.
It looked like two.
Light and shadow,woven together so evenly that neither disappeared.
⸻
“Most days,” she said,“the sky leans.”
“More light.”“More dark.”
“More day.”“More night.”
“But today… it holds both.”
⸻
Lio looked down at his hands.
“That’s what this feels like,” he said quietly.
⸻
The other child smiled.
“Yes.”
⸻
They sat together in the stillness.
Not talking.Not needing to.
The kind of quiet that doesn’t ask you to fix anything.
⸻
After a while, Lio asked,
“Does it go away?”
⸻
The other child thought for a moment.
“Not really,” she said.
“But it changes shape.”
⸻
“How?”
⸻
“You learn how to hold it,” she said.
⸻
Lio frowned slightly.
“But what if I don’t want both?”
⸻
The child’s smile softened.
“Sometimes you won’t.”
“That’s okay too.”
⸻
She reached down and touched the ground between them.
“Watch.”
⸻
The sunlight shifted—just slightly.
The shadow answered—just enough.
Neither one leaving.
Neither one taking over.
⸻
“It’s not a problem,” she said.
“It’s how it stays.”
⸻
Lio breathed in.
The feeling in his chest didn’t split.
It didn’t disappear.
But it… settled.
Like two things learning they didn’t have to push each other out.
⸻
When he looked up again, the other child was already standing.
⸻
“Wait,” Lio said. “Will I see you again?”
⸻
She shrugged, a small, almost-smile returning.
“You might,” she said.
“On days when things don’t need to be one or the other.”
⸻
And then she stepped back—
not into the trees,not into the light—
but into that quiet place where both meet.
And was gone.
⸻
Lio stayed a little longer.
Watching the sky.
Feeling the strange, steady way the day held itself.
⸻
When he finally stood to leave, the feeling was still there.
Both of them.
Light and dusk.
Beginning and ending.
⸻
But now he knew something he hadn’t before.
⸻
He didn’t have to choose.Not today.
⸻
And somewhere, just beyond the edge of noticing,
the sky shifted again—
returning to its usual rhythm.
But leaving behind the memory of a day
when it remembered how to share.
⸻
🍃 Closing Whisper
If you ever wake with two feelings in your chest—one bright, one quiet—
you might be closer to balance than you think.
To the listeners.To the whisper-hearers.To the ones who hold story before it has shape:
We see you.We thank you.We will keep writing.
And today we send a special Hollow Tree hello over mountains, along winding rivers and over the ocean waves —
to Calder and Cambel in Alaska.
Thank you for listening to The Hollow Tree.
Where strange stories nest and grow.
And where, every now and then,the world remembers how to hold two things at once.
You can find more tales and behind-the-scenes magic at thehollowtree.substack.com, Instagram @TheHollowTreeStories and remember to follow along on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Until next time—may the path be soft, and the whisper of the forest stay with you.
—Written, recorded and produced by Amber Jensen (the voices of The Hollow Tree)
If this story stirred something in you…You can keep The Hollow Tree lit by subscribing, sharing it with someone who listens like you do, or leaving a kind note.
Everything here is offered with care.And every listen, every share, every whisper down the line—it matters. 🌲
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit thehollowtree.substack.com
