I get so busy trying to catch the fairies, dragons, and sea monsters around here that I sometimes forget altogether about the Ents. This area of Maine is just loaded with them, but there's only so much one castaway can do. Still, Ents do deserve mention here since this is a written record of the enchantment of Maine. Long ago, there were Ents everywhere in every land. The word "ent" is an ancient Anglo-Saxon word that means "giant," which is rather fitting for these large semi-mobile trees known as Ents. J.R.R. Tolkien popularized them in the 1930s, and up until he wrote about them, not many people knew they existed. Which is exactly how the Ents like it. While it is true that their numbers have diminished, there are still Ents alive in the world, and Maine is one of their last strongholds. No surprise there since Maine is the most densely forested state in the nation. Ents are never happier when you think they don't exist because then they can follow through with any number of pranks, and oh, are they famous for their pranks!
This particular Ent is rather grumpy because I refuse to not believe in him. Every time I pass by, I say hello, which only serves to anger him further. He usually just sticks his tongue out, but sometimes he'll throw an acorn or a pine cone at me. I haven't heard his voice yet, but it has only been five years since I spotted him. Ents rarely talk to you before 25 years, so I guess I've got a couple of decades to go. I don't mind and neither does he. Besides, he makes such a ruckus coming and going when he thinks I'm not around. Bang, bang! Pound, pound! It's enough to wake the dead.