The Whisper of Trees
Friday, 1 August 2008.
My favorite sound in all the world is the whispering of trees.
It’s refreshing to step outside and hear the soft rush of leaf caressing leaf, with the velvet breeze brushing by your cheek; walking on the side of the street and passing by an oak, feeling the unconditional and unrequited love it exudes, and hearing it whisper to you, “Welcome, my love; stay awhile beneath my boughs and enjoy my company.” Very rarely do I stay, but trees are kind and feel no distress at my refusal. Sometimes I put my hand to their bark, and return a little of their love back to them.
I must confess that for quite some time, I had a secret love affair—I've never told anyone about it, not even my then-girlfriend or now-wife. I never knew her name (who is such a man that he can know the name of a tree?), but I used to walk by her several times a day, as she lived next to a street I frequented to class in college. She was the broken and diseased remnant of a petite tree, with but two branches remaining and not a leaf upon them; but in Spring, she would still sometimes wear a single flower, and that flower was what first caught my attention. I once stopped to marvel at this single flower, so out of place on this broken being, and I heard her beckon to me: “Few stop to look at me, anymore. I was once beautiful, but now I am old and weak. Still, I love all who walk by, and I love you—this flower I wear for you. I love you.”
I would visit and rest in her shade often. I never spoke to her, but I could feel her care for the world and for me, and I cared for her. About a year and a half later, she died and was uprooted by the schools' groundskeepers. I never got to say goodbye to my friend, but I hope that she was happier in her last year.
The above story is totally true, and if it sounds ridiculous, that is because there is an important lesson for you in it: just because something is impossible doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. If you've never heard a tree’s soft voice, then you should to spend more time listening. If you've never felt a tree’s comfort, then you should spend more time feeling. Our world loves us more than we will ever realize.
I don’t cherish the sweet nothings of trees as often as I should.
