Friday, April 06, 2007

The Oak Tree - My Story

Written by Sylvia

There is an old oak tree down in the pasture that stands tall and proud. That oak tree has been there for over 200 years according to the stories passed down from generation to generation. His canopy has grown to be quite wide and full of beautiful leaves each year. In the fall of the year, he bares the fruit of the tree, his acorns and then sheds his leaves. He stands there feeling so bare and naked, nothing left but his acorns. He knows they will stay with him until summer. It takes all his energy and strength to nurture them so they will grow and mature into an oak tree just like him. He waits anxiously as they grow because he knows that the chances of his acorns making it to become an oak tree just like him are very slim. He knows the squirrels will take them away to hide for food in the winter. He knows the wind will sweep some of them away to places where there is no soil to take root. He knows that only a few will survive the cruel world of nature.

That old oak tree has so many memories and stories to tell. If he would only talk to me, think of the things he would say. He has seen so many people pass through his long life, sitting under his branches covered with leaves, having picnics, just being lazy and relaxing, sharing their secrets. The people have come and gone, yet he is still standing tall and proud. The trunk of that old oak tree has more scars than you can imagine, each filled with a different memory. Memories left behind by those people who have passed his way during the years.

He remembers fondly a young couple, lovers from years ago, long since dead he thinks. He watched as they sat on a blanket under his canopy and remembers how they talked, held hands and made love under his tree. He remembers that as the lovers were leaving, they stopped for a moment and carved a great big heart into that old tree. Each time he sees that heart, he remembers how in love they seemed and how gentle they were when they carved their heart into his trunk. That old oak tree wears his scars proudly for the world to see because each one reminds him of how all those people loved his tree.

Copyright © 2007 Sylvia A. Feeley All Rights Reserved

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