He sat there silently feeling the breeze.
He wasn't chatty anymore like before. "I definitely am getting old" he thought.
Life had stripped him bit by bit, but he never budged. He always found reasons to wake up to another day and continue.
It felt like just yesterday, when he was this delicate little thing, protected under the shadows of his elders.
He has seen so many seasons now that he had stopped keeping count of them long ago. The rings in his trunk no longer accounted for his true age.
He still remembers the first thunderstorm he was in, how he had tried to hold on to his precious 6 leaves. And how he was devastated to see 2 of his leaves left battered at the end of it. He was overcome with so much grief that he had spent the whole day with slouching shoulders, his back bent till his head touched the earth.
But then, with the ray of next sunlight, he had slowly revived. Now he thinks of that day and smiles at his ignorance and innocence. That was the way of life, he just dint know it then.
As seasons passed, he grew older and taller and stronger. He was so full of life, that every autumn he would dance waving his branches gaily showering a few yellow leaves every now and then. Falling of leaves felt natural to him now, it did not hurt him anymore.
He was happy to be around his own kinds, quite a few he had grown old with - other trees, plants, insects, birds, wind, rain, sunlight, night, stars, sky etc.. etc.
But then he started seeing men. More and more of them. He was fine when they started chopping old branches; he had thought, if it's useful for them then why not. Nature had broken so many of his branches in the past. Isn't man a creation of nature too? So maybe they know what they are doing, maybe there's a reason they are cutting down his branches.
Then he saw a few of his elders being cut down. There was a lot of whirring and chipping and weird sounds that did not seem nature like. But what did he know anyways. So, he simply watched.
He slowly saw his neighborhood thinning. In a matter of few seasons, his very chatty friends and families seem to have fallen silent, one by one. He remembers panicking and not sleeping for many nights one season.
He was cut down too that season.
He feels the brutal pain that was inflicted on him till he had fainted, no longer feeling anything. But he was always a survivor, his roots had continued to keep him alive.
He had spent a lot of nights feeling desolate and bereft. Occasionally, a bird would perch on him, trying to cheer him up, but nothing had seemed to help.
Then something changed end of that season. He saw a lot of young plants moving in to the neighborhood. These men were bringing back his kinds and planting them in place of his dead friends. He did not understand what was going on, "..but when did I ever understand the way of life." He had thought and sighed. So he just watched.
And the following season, more plants moved in, and his neighborhood seemed to be getting back to it's older self.
Now here he was 6 seasons later, his roots had given birth to a few younger plants that were huddling around his feet. And the younger trees were now showering yellow fall leaves on him, their branches flirting with the wind.
He was back with his community.
He felt a slight stab of guilt for thinking that man was a monster back then. Maybe, men had a plan all along, and he was just naive not to understand their good intentions. Maybe it was nature's way after all.
Whatever was the reason, he was glad to have his dense forest back. And he no longer cringed at the sight of men. He was happy to see their smiling faces pass by once in a while. In fact, he had seen a few of them perch on him like the birds, and he would giggle at their excitement.
And before he knew, he was listening to all his chatty friends around.
"Nothing had really changed. It was just another storm that has now passed." He thought to himself with a smile. We are all children of nature, aren't we?
He wasn't chatty anymore like before. "I definitely am getting old" he thought.
Life had stripped him bit by bit, but he never budged. He always found reasons to wake up to another day and continue.
It felt like just yesterday, when he was this delicate little thing, protected under the shadows of his elders.
He has seen so many seasons now that he had stopped keeping count of them long ago. The rings in his trunk no longer accounted for his true age.
He still remembers the first thunderstorm he was in, how he had tried to hold on to his precious 6 leaves. And how he was devastated to see 2 of his leaves left battered at the end of it. He was overcome with so much grief that he had spent the whole day with slouching shoulders, his back bent till his head touched the earth.
But then, with the ray of next sunlight, he had slowly revived. Now he thinks of that day and smiles at his ignorance and innocence. That was the way of life, he just dint know it then.
As seasons passed, he grew older and taller and stronger. He was so full of life, that every autumn he would dance waving his branches gaily showering a few yellow leaves every now and then. Falling of leaves felt natural to him now, it did not hurt him anymore.
He was happy to be around his own kinds, quite a few he had grown old with - other trees, plants, insects, birds, wind, rain, sunlight, night, stars, sky etc.. etc.
But then he started seeing men. More and more of them. He was fine when they started chopping old branches; he had thought, if it's useful for them then why not. Nature had broken so many of his branches in the past. Isn't man a creation of nature too? So maybe they know what they are doing, maybe there's a reason they are cutting down his branches.
Then he saw a few of his elders being cut down. There was a lot of whirring and chipping and weird sounds that did not seem nature like. But what did he know anyways. So, he simply watched.
He slowly saw his neighborhood thinning. In a matter of few seasons, his very chatty friends and families seem to have fallen silent, one by one. He remembers panicking and not sleeping for many nights one season.
He was cut down too that season.
He feels the brutal pain that was inflicted on him till he had fainted, no longer feeling anything. But he was always a survivor, his roots had continued to keep him alive.
He had spent a lot of nights feeling desolate and bereft. Occasionally, a bird would perch on him, trying to cheer him up, but nothing had seemed to help.
Then something changed end of that season. He saw a lot of young plants moving in to the neighborhood. These men were bringing back his kinds and planting them in place of his dead friends. He did not understand what was going on, "..but when did I ever understand the way of life." He had thought and sighed. So he just watched.
And the following season, more plants moved in, and his neighborhood seemed to be getting back to it's older self.
Now here he was 6 seasons later, his roots had given birth to a few younger plants that were huddling around his feet. And the younger trees were now showering yellow fall leaves on him, their branches flirting with the wind.
He was back with his community.
He felt a slight stab of guilt for thinking that man was a monster back then. Maybe, men had a plan all along, and he was just naive not to understand their good intentions. Maybe it was nature's way after all.
Whatever was the reason, he was glad to have his dense forest back. And he no longer cringed at the sight of men. He was happy to see their smiling faces pass by once in a while. In fact, he had seen a few of them perch on him like the birds, and he would giggle at their excitement.
And before he knew, he was listening to all his chatty friends around.
"Nothing had really changed. It was just another storm that has now passed." He thought to himself with a smile. We are all children of nature, aren't we?
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