I AM A TREE

I am dying.  It is lonely here now.  I am the last in my group.  Once I was so proud, so tall, so regal. My branches were strong – swaying with the strongest onslaught of wind and rain, firm against the soft, heavy burden of snow. Let me tell you what happened.  I was invaded by a multitude of parasitic creatures called (no, I cannot even bear to say the name, it is so repulsive to me). I was not alone in this attack high in the desert hills; all my fellow pines suffered the same fate.  At first I didn’t even notice the discolouration of my needles, it was so slight, didn’t notice that my beautiful inner trunk had begun to crumble.  Next came the continuing change to my needles, the rusty red, the identifying colour of the disease.  They continued to darken, to weaken, clinging for a long time to my branches, reluctant to leave the security of my sturdy limbs. Except these branches are not so sturdy anymore, it is not so easy for the needles to cling, so they drop, silently, sadly, permanently. So this is the process of a dying tree – many dying trees, thousands of us succumbing to the evil blight; left high and dry, presenting to the world a harsh, dry cacophony of red-rust across acres of sadness.   This is not generally known, but we trees communicate with each other by a soft rustling or shushing, a conversation of sorts.  What I am understanding is that we could have been restored to health simply by the occurrence of cold – very cold weather over a fairly brief period of time.  Nature chose not to grant this – perhaps it is her way of starting over, getting rid of the old and replacing us with new, vibrant seeds to grow into strong vibrant trees. All of this of course presents only the conclusions the other trees and I have reached because we have no way of truly knowing the real reason for our collective demise after so many years of healthy growth, regal bearing and supremacy in the forest.  All that is gone now and I am preparing to die. BUT just watch – my rebirth will take place. One day it will be very silent in the forest. Suddenly there will be a small pop, a tiny noise – a seed in a cone has been  warmed by the spring sun and struggles to break free, to nestle into the warm earth.  That will be me, being reborn as a new beginning pine tree. It will take many years to return my fellow trees and I to our previous glory – It will happen but it will be slow.  The next time you go for a walk or a hike in the hills, tread gently and lightly and give me a chance to establish my roots, to sink deeply into the mother earth and I will flourish and grow and be a Ponderosa Pine once again.