the human walks from the cave where it has been talking to it’s body for 40 days and nights.
it walks to the lakeside and sits. it places it’s hand in the lake and talks to the microbes, fungi and bacteria there. it removes it’s hand from the lake.
for hours, nothing seems to change. slowly the lake surface loses it’s luster, becomes dull matte green. the ripples on the surface slow, and become more viscous. by the next morning, a thick film has covered the surface of the lake.
the lake is covered by what looks like a filmy flossy green lichen. the tendrils layer and cross and climb and compact and climb and cross again. green candy floss slowly reaches from the lake into the shore. at the end of the second day, you might mistake the mossy lake for a meadow.
on the third day you would notice the bulge. the lake has become swollen in the middle, a small smooth hill.
on the fourth day you would call the lake pregnant, with a full, hemispherical belly. a slow green eruption of translucent green
the fifth day sees the surface thicken and harden. still mossy and fibrous but now the bulging lake is taut, pressurized beneath it’s fuzz.
on the sixth day, the bulge will have a taper, near the ground, like a monstrous mushroom. from a distance you might guess that it’s becoming a balloon. the lake bed shows no sign of the body of water, instead it is a basin of lacy green cobwebs.
the seventh day witnesses a giant green fuzzy balloon. light passes through the balloon a dim yellow green. the thick cord, still hundreds of feet across has roots and tendrils expanding far beyond the circumference of the original lake, reaching into the surrounding forest, and climbing up it’s trees. the balloon moves in the wind only slightly.
on the eighth day the balloon has risen, the cord has stretched and thinned, while the tendrils continue to climb and layer, ever growing and ever stretching
at the end of the second week, the balloon of hydrogen is fully risen from the pond, held by the vine of organic polymers. it drifts slowly, 100 feet in the air, like a giant inverted pendulum. it has developed a keel, and aerodynamic cowling. it carves through wind. by the third week it is creating it’s own lift in the fast moving wind at skyscraper height.
the cord is fed from the ground, from the lakebed hollow of moss and its spreading roots anchored across the forest, stretching up spiraling strands of sticky carbon, but after 200′, even its optimized mutant vascular pumping no longer functions, and the rope and balloon become become cut off from the water table. the balloon is no longer green, it has hardened to an amber brown shell of layered lichens the texture of lacquer, attached to a meters thick rope of fractally spiraled carbon surrounding hydrogen vesicles, a cable lighter than air and stronger than steel.