Thursday, June 12, 2014
June 12, 2014 - Sociable Tree
I was hiking up a small mountain and was feeling rather tired when I heard a deep yet soft voice say, "Hello." I turned around and saw nothing at first, until I used my other vision and that's when I saw this tree. Just at the moment when I was wishing for a seat, don't you know that this extremely large branch dipped low to the ground. "You look tired," he said, "Why not have a seat?" The branch part that was closest to the trunk was just at about hip level and made a perfect seat. When I sat in it, the farther end of the branch popped up ever so slightly to slide me down and snuggle me in closer to the trunk. I thought it rather forward behavior of the tree, but I didn't want to be rude in case this was normal interaction for trees in this neck of the woods. Trees in my own woods are much more reserved. And after all, I really was tired and needed to sit.
So I sat and drank some water from my canteen. Rather belatedly, I poured a bit at the base of the tree. "Mmmm, thank you," he said. We sat in silence for a long time as I caught my breath and then lazily swung my legs back and forth. I told him that I thought his part of the forest was very nice, and I do believe I felt a bit of a shiver in response. He never spoke another word, but it was time for me to leave anyhow. I murmured a goodbye, put one arm around the trunk as I slid down, patted him, and then walked away. As I rounded the bend just past the tree, I saw two squirrels up on a large rock. I got the distinct impression that they were pointing at me as I passed them, and I could have sworn I heard one call me a "tree hugger." Squirrels are like that, though. Quite odd little creatures, really.
I am a freelance writer living in Maine, and I am the owner and author of the In Pursuit of Maine blog. I specialize in creative writing but also write historical articles as well as how to, gardening, cooking, practical articles, etc. My passion is outdoor living, farming, and gardening, but I write in many genres.