A short story about a tree and an old man.
|Old Friends |
On a great open plain covered with a short cut carpet of green sat a lone tree. This lone tree stood not particularly tall nor particularly short. It was of the green leaf variety. The type that you would see overlooking a park as it watched little children scamper about. You might say, “ Hmm this really isn’t that special of a tree.” But upon closer examination you would find quite the opposite.
The leaves shine a green that reminds you of an emerald gem. With it you see the sublime intricacies of its veiny fibers sprawled across. Creating tiny stain glass windows on the emerald surface. Follow its slender stem to another stain glass leaf and there sits a fat, lazy, sky blue caterpillar. Lounging on a leaf, the lazy caterpillar takes a midday munch as he basks in the noon day sun. Farther down the tree you reach the trunk. A junkyard full of half broken bark pieces and seemingly endless random cuts and nicks marking its length. An increasingly difficult maze makes up what is the rooting base of the tree.
At the bottom of the trees sits a very tired old man. His eyes are closed and his hands are clenched together in his lap. His hands are tough like leather. Made that way after years of working at the local lumber yard. His dark black hair had been peppered with whites. Everyday this old man would come to take a nap at the base of his favorite tree. He enjoyed the comfort the shade of it provided. He felt great relief from the sun and never had a problem dozing off. It was a wonderful place to nap. Halfway to work and halfway to home, it was a nice break from the daily grind.
The tree also enjoyed the company of the man. Sitting alone on the vast lonely plain. Overlooking all the clean, neatly trimmed grass made the tree very lonely during the day. Then on the horizon the tree could see the old man when he approached. Slowly creeping along with a lunch bag in hand. The tree could only shudder its branches ever so slightly in anticipation of the old mans approach. When he sat to rest the tree would move its branches ever so slightly so that the man would have the best shade the tree could provide.
After awhile the old man would wake up from his slumber. “Thank you old friend”, the old man would say. “ I will see you tomorrow .” “Yes, I’ll be waiting old friend,” the tree would say to its self. The old man walked away and the tree stayed. Not standing particularly tall nor particularly short.