Edward’s Diary Entry 103: Talking Trees

You commune with humans, with family. You talk as far as you can get, as a long as time permits… Then you take to your feet and go out for a walk. A dog accompanies you. He’s excited – it seems like the very first time he’s every been out on a walk. He’s so intense, he smells and marks everything, he’s an inspiration on how to extract every single instant of life from every single moment of living. He’s perfect – he doesn’t need a coat and scarf like me – he’s got his coat. He doesn’t need boots – he has his padded paws. He doesn’t think about life – he’s already exuberant and crackling with life. He doesn’t ask where he going – he just knows and accepts it. We wandered up the hill. I had been here in the summer, with leaves of green, sky of blue and misty mornings that became sun-drenched days. I would sit in front of a five-trunked tree and do my exercises and become meditative. Now, I see that that same sitting place is still grassy, completely clean, not a leaf on it, whereas all the surrounding ground has dried brown and grey leaves fluttering around, and clumps of grass. It looks like someone still uses it and sits here every day. I wonder whether it is a deer or a bear. My dog finds interesting smells nearby in the field. I inspect and tell him that must be deer dung. But he already knows it. This five-pronged tree is silent, waiting for my return, perhaps. But the trees close at hand are “talking”. There is strong wind and the boughs and branches are rubbing together, making a funny creaking noise as if they were conversing. I listen. I seem to understand it. I find sense in that talk. I’m afraid to say it, but I find  more sense in it than talking with humans sometimes. I review the terrain, breathe my breaths and walk down the hill again and 28 sheep and a black ram are waiting to run towards me. Then they follow me down the lower field. They finally scatter, saying “he’s going back to the humans, he’s leaving us. He’s one of them. The ones that talk endlessly, solve little, and wreak not a little havoc on this planet.” If only humans were like trees, only talking when the spirit of the wind pushes them, then we would talk more sense, and be more human than we are. So… Happy Christmas, let’s listen to the wind inside our hearts and talk more sense – today and in the coming year.