Chameleon Spirit

How was it that I hadn't noticed the face before.

I had sat in this very same spot nearly every day during lunch and not seen the face in the crook of the tree. The face was three dimensional - protruding from the surrounding bark. I was close enough to being in a direct line of sight that I felt certain I was being scrutinized.

The question was scrutinized by whom. The face was genderless. If I shifted my eyes slightly to the right, it seemed I was being studied by an old hag. If I looked left, the face became that of a leather-faced American Indian.

Perhaps it was the spirit of the tree that was studying me. Perhaps the shift in appearance was natural. Perhaps, like a chameleon, the tree spirit altered its appearance constantly to avoid detection.

So how was it the spirit gifted me with its appearance this day? Was it a good omen or bad? I periodically pondered those questions during the second half of my workday.

When the quitting whistle blew I returned to the tree. The face was gone. No matter how I shifted my feet or eyes there was simply no tree spirit to be seen.

Had it ever really been there?