SOC Writing _ 19.5.21

I spoke to the tree

I climbed her softly, asking if she wanted to stay - to bear fruit – be trimmed – but where exactly? A limb here as I ascend her – the dead wood on the upper branches concerns me – would I work my best to keep you and then have you die on me? Would the pruning kill you straight away? But I have been starting a conversation with you for a long time now – you have seemed to hear my words and the laughter of my children on your lower boughs and have amazingly born fruit – fruit that I plucked from your upper reaches – but I want you to produce low hanging fruit – want to see you resplendent – green fecund and happy. And so, lets you and I continue this conversation – lets see how we both feel as the time draws nearer and you tell me you wish to actually be gone – have had enough life in this place and wish to be given over to the humus and become something else – or – to remain in a way, growing with my new life – our home life building up around you – pitter patter of little feet upon decks around you – glinting in the morning sunlight upon our breakfast table – glowing in the apricot sunset that will surely be yours night after night - after dusk upon dusk. You are a member of this my family now – the children have claimed you as their own – wish to swing upon you and play their silly games – fight and argue around you as you serenely lay in the depths of the earth, in the flow of nutrients – part of the syntropic gardens I plan to build – a bastion of all good things – and I still want to listen – hear your leaves fall – rake up all that carbon and give it to the chooks to make magic with. This sandy landscape is coming to a different life – this home base becoming really something life giving and astounding. Home – astounding like home – because this is home – this heart place of root, cambium and green shoots forth like we do – deep in the earth – beautiful to the sky – a lot of time has gone into your making and I for one am tremendously grateful.