The Tree did not know how it came to be, only that it was.
It broke through the comfortable ground that held it.
The Tree had already began to probe the depths of it's place in the earth;
it was now time to look up.
The Tree grew high and strong and became familiar with it's place.
It delighted in the symphony around it.
The songs of the birds that heralded the morning,
the calls of the animals that roamed during the day,
the lullaby of the crickets at evening
and the cries of the night creatures.
It was a hot summer afternoon when the Tree was visited by a lone man.
The man sat tired and discouraged under the Tree.
Holding only a bow, the man watched his prey race over the golden hills;
carrying in it his last arrow.
The Tree watched the man and felt discouraged with him.
At least the Tree could shade the man for a while.
It was a cool, misty morning when a young woman sat under the Tree.
The woman sat sobbing; her face in her hands.
The Tree wished to reach to her with it's branches.
The Tree could only whisper, shhhh, as the wind stirred it's leaves.
It cried with her.
Rooted there in it's place in the earth,
the Tree was familiar with the sky above it.
It knew the twinkling stars and bright wandering planets.
It knew the Sun and the Moon in their perpetual dance;
etching out the days and seasons that marked the years of the Tree's life.
Watching the great calender above it,
the Old Tree could no longer count the years.
It's strength and sturdiness was waning.
The Old Tree watched as men came
and dissected the hills around it with fences.
The Old Tree had lost many of it branches
and only a few of it's remaining limbs grew leaves.
The highest bare branch of the Old Tree became
a favorite perch of a local Red-tailed Hawk.
The Old Tree was grateful for it's company.
The Old Tree watched with fading vision
the activities of the people that came to live around it.
The thoughts of the Old Tree wandered back to the day
that it had observed it's place for the first time so long ago.
It wondered how many times it saw the Sun
trace out it's course from north to south, then north again.
One winter the Old Tree felt the rain coming with a blustery wind.
The Old Tree's now brittle branches could no longer dance with the storm.
The Old Tree saw the earth rush up towards it.
The ground that had held the Old Tree all it's life recieved
it back to itself and the Old Tree saw no more.
