Leaves are rustling outside my window. House is quiet. No one is home. TV if off. The occasional car drives past. Its sweater weather. Days like this I am truly grateful for all that I have been given.
Undercurrents are streaming along. Rough waters underneath. Pushing this way and that. Can't see how it effects, but knowing its there makes it quite. . .calming. No matter what precaution one takes, the danger is always there of being swept away. Like the leaves outside being pushed to the left and the right. It is relaxing.
Green leaves are yellowing. Soon they will brown. Connected by the tree holding her tightly. Branches and the tree sway. The bark, her shield, covering the xylem and phloem. Layers of skin strengthen and harden with each blow by storm so far away. Bending and swaying breaks the fiber of the tree. These are microfractures that scar and strengthen. Like a body builder pushing weight, the myosin and actin crossbridges break and scar. Strengthened when allowed to heal. Someday it may grow to be an enormous. Someday the strong winds may topple her. Demands on the tree outside is weakened and made stronger with each gust.
Via the capillary effect, waste is removed and nutrients feed the assaulted tree. Like the veins and arteries, the xylem and phloem allow the leaves' thirst to be quenched and tree to be fed. It starts with a little wrapping that emerges from the branches. It starts small, searching and expanding. It expands. Her leaves provide a la photosynthesis. Thin energy converters. Converting carbon dioxide to good old O2. Helping the planet breathe. From a distance. leaves seem inconsequential. Many think that they are messy and to be picked up by gardeners and dispensed to the gray garbage unit. They are our alveolar. Small, many, and vital. They allow us to breathe.
Below, many branches search and expand. Fighting challengers for much needed liquid. They battle with the Oligochaeta for nutrients. Trees must compete a never ending battle. It looks calm just standing there. Tall and proud. Our view is limited. We do not see the quiet life and death battle waging. Waging against fungus, fires ,and construction. Insects of all sorts. Environment and people.
However, my tree is she made of sterner stuff. She will bend this way and that. Mastering the undercurrents above and below. She stands. Her bark protecting against all comers. She is scarred, with inscriptions of love. She is made stronger, despite our best intentions.
Then the leaves die. No longer able to hold on. No longer able synthesize. She will eventually lose the battle. Perhaps time, perhaps a mighty gust. Perhaps she will just want to let go. Still, she has fought and competed. Stood strong against the mighty forces all around. My tree will die eventually. We all do. But not on this day. Nor any time soon. She has remained calm while the workings of the world has done its best to take her down. Defiantly, she survives.
Green leaves are yellowing. Soon they will brown. Connected by the tree holding her tightly. Branches and the tree sway. The bark, her shield, covering the xylem and phloem. Layers of skin strengthen and harden with each blow by storm so far away. Bending and swaying breaks the fiber of the tree. These are microfractures that scar and strengthen. Like a body builder pushing weight, the myosin and actin crossbridges break and scar. Strengthened when allowed to heal. Someday it may grow to be an enormous. Someday the strong winds may topple her. Demands on the tree outside is weakened and made stronger with each gust.
Then the leaves die. No longer able to hold on. No longer able synthesize. She will eventually lose the battle. Perhaps time, perhaps a mighty gust. Perhaps she will just want to let go. Still, she has fought and competed. Stood strong against the mighty forces all around. My tree will die eventually. We all do. But not on this day. Nor any time soon. She has remained calm while the workings of the world has done its best to take her down. Defiantly, she survives.
