Updated: Jan 9
When I was younger, I planted a seed in the soil that belonged to the land owned by my forefathers, the soil that had been passed down from generations through my bloodline. The seed was that of a mango tree. I live in a city, hence, I only got to watch her grow when I visited our village. The tree was one of a kind. I would spread a mat under her and lie down underneath her shade. I would watch the tree sway as the wind played his tunes. The sound of the rustling leaves, the yellow specks amidst the stark green portrait, and the smell of the soil arose within me an indescribable feeling. I have always loved being around people. I would be bored if I didn't have company. The very activity of sitting with the tree kept me occupied and happy. It meant that I shared a bond I didn’t share with any human. I shared with her a bond that was so tightly knotted that even my closest of human connections couldn’t break it. She understood my unspoken words and emotions.
That is when I wondered, why was it that I felt so connected to a plant, an organism that couldn’t reciprocate anything I said or did but made me feel like she did so much more!
It is no wonder that trees have captured the human imagination since the beginning of time. Their strength, deeply rooted in the Earth, is an inspiration. There is much that one can witness and learn from a plant. Their trunk and branches are a wonder of nature because they stand sturdy and are impenetrable, yet they can sway with the wind from time to time.
The whisper of a breeze in their leaves or the sight of ants marching in a straight line up and down their trunks reminds us of the magic of nature that trees embody. They live for hundreds of years, we revere them as the keepers of past secrets and sentinels of the future.
Their growth happens in cycles, sometimes drying them up to the extent where they wither and are no longer as strong and beautiful as they were. But, they wait. They wait patiently till it is yet again their time to bloom.
It was a mistake for me to even doubt her communication with me. She was a therapist better than any other because she not only told me how to live life, she guided me through it, showing me and living by example. She spoke so much yet nothing at all!
She did all this and yet, they decided she wasn’t good enough to live. They exposed her strength, her roots to the scorching heat and rain. They let her die when she was the reason I live.