It's All About The Trees

It’s All About The Trees

    Walking along the grassy path, Karen was lost deep in thought. It had been a very long day for her, one that started out simply enough, yet had quickly become complicated. She’d awoken in a great mood, having slept through the night for the first time in over a month. While taking her morning shower, she found herself humming a small tune from her childhood, one that always brought a smile to her face. The drive to work was uneventful, but that was the last bit of pleasure she had this day. As she walked into her office building, her pants had caught on a piece of loose metal, tearing them down the seam on the right leg. Luckily she wasn’t cut when it happened, but it still put a damper on her great mood. When she sat down at her desk, her chair had toppled over backwards, spilling her to the floor, causing her to bump her head hard. She felt a little dizzy briefly, but dismissed it as a minor ache from the fall. She sat back to relax, thinking of how she’d torn her pants, had fallen in her chair, and then it hit her. Brian and George were goofing off like they always did, and somehow, one of them hit the shelf next to her desk, knocking the Encyclopedia Britannica off the shelf and on to her head. Stunned, she slumped forward, unconscious.

    “Karen, are you alright?” “Karen, wake up!” “Karen, Karen, Karen?” She vaguely heard her name called, but was unable to answer. Her arms seemed full of lead, her feet held down by cement. Nearby she heard someone sobbing, another one frantically talking on the phone. “Please have them get here quickly; we’re at the new offices of McBride and Stanley. Hurry!!! She’s bleeding from the head a lot!” Karen tried to protest, and found that she still couldn’t speak or move. Slowly she drifted away, then came back when she felt hands on her head, gently moving her, wrapping her head in some type of material. Karen thought to herself “Wow, I must be hurt pretty bad for them to get out the paper towels like this.” Once again she drifted off, silently going where each of us must go sometime in our lives.

    The next thing she knew, she was walking down this path; a sky filled with threatening grey clouds overhead, feeling that rain would soon be on its way. She was not concerned, she knew that she was where she belonged, she felt totally at peace. Finally she stopped near a beautiful oak tree, its branches blown clean by the harsh winds that she’d felt a bit already today. Kneeling down, she looked to the cloud filled sky, and found that maybe her voice had returned. Thinking to herself, she wondered how old that oak tree must be to stand there against the wind, its trunk leaning slightly to the side, as if the wind had blown it that way.

    “I’m 75 yrs old,” said a deep voice. Startled, Karen looked around for the man who spoke, because she could have sworn she was alone. “It’s okay my child, do not fear, it was I who spoke to you.” Karen looked around more, convinced he must be hiding. As she looked, she saw a branch of the tree blown by the wind as if beckoning her closer. Wait, how could that be, there wasn’t any wind at the moment!! “Yes my dear, you’re not seeing things, I’m asking you to come closer, something I’ve rarely done with humankind. Most of them just want to cut my brothers down, so I’ve grown to be wary of your race.”

    Unable to believe her eyes, nor believe what she’d heard, Karen remained still. Yet her feet betrayed her as she found herself walking slowly toward the tree. “What is it that brings you here my dear?” Again the deep voice, but Karen still couldn’t bring herself to believe the tree was talking to her. Thinking that maybe someone had hidden a microphone in one of the trees limbs, she started to answer. But before she could speak, the voice spoke again, “No, there is no microphone in a branch, nor anywhere nearby, it’s just you and me young lady.” It took Karen a moment to find her voice, but when she did, she finally asked; no she finally blurted out, “How is it that you can speak? Everyone knows that trees can’t speak!” The trees arms moved slowly, and hugged her gently. Again the deep voice spoke, “And I suppose everyone knows that trees can’t hug humankind, right? You have a lot to learn young lady.”

    Karen still wasn’t completely convinced the tree was talking to her, but decided she would sit and talk to it. She thought it would be better than talking to herself, since she’d seen no one else since awakening. “Ok, may I ask a question please? What can I call you? It doesn’t seem right to just call you oak tree.”

    “You can call me Mr. Penn my dear,” replied the tree.

    “Well Mr. Penn, how is it that you are here alone in the middle of this field of tall grass? Shouldn’t there be others of you around?” asked Karen.

    “A long time ago, there were many of us here.  We grew strong and proud, sheltering all forms of life from the blustering winds.  Every few years we’d move some, always searching for a better source of water.  But slowly through the years we became separated.  I may be the last of my kind, and if I cease to exist, your Earth will also cease to exist.”

    “But you said you’re 75 years old, how is it that you know of all this?” Karen asked.

    “As trees go, I’m pretty young, hardly your age in human years.  But we talk constantly to each other through our roots, passing down our knowledge to young trees once they are grown enough to listen.  Sadly, many of them never make it to be old enough; your kind yearns to cut us down for our skin and flesh.”

    “Your skin? Flesh?”

    “Yes, you call it bark, and wood, but it’s us, our being.  We are the original occupants of your Earth.  You have been here far fewer generations that we have, despite the fact that we have naturally longer lives than your kind does.”

    “Wait a minute,” said Karen, “You also said you moved some, but trees can’t move across the ground!  And how does your fate affect the Earth?”

    “Without us, Earth cannot exist for you.  What would be used to purify the atmosphere for you?  Many species depend upon us to survive also, and if we are gone, they will be gone too.  And I suppose trees can’t talk either, or hug one like you, huh. My young child, you have so much to learn. My fate is the Earths’ fate; we are tied together like a Medusa’s knot. Now it is time for you to leave, but remember, remember,,, trees are the key,,,,,,”

    Karen felt a pain shoot through her whole being, her body jerking violently from the force of it. Voices spoke nearby, “Good job!! That was the last time we could try that, we have a nice stable sinus rhythm now, let’s get her in the ambulance, and to the hospital.”

    Karen lay there on the gurney, silent tears filling her eyes. “The trees,” she whispered, “It’s all about the trees.”

Jim Dorrell
6/22/10

1,263 words