My Conversation with Mother Nature
I was tired. I took a sip of water. I sat down on the grass. I laid my head against the tree. I started to think about what would happen if the tree could talk to me. I probably shouldn’t have said “if”. Imagination is one thing, while reality is another. The thing in between imagination and reality is imagination based on reality. In my case, it was the thing in between. The tree was real, and its speech was imagination.
Unknowingly, the tree tried to talk to me by saying “hi” and “hello” using its leaves and the wind. Pulling its branches away from my head finally grabbed my attention. The tree asked, “Hi, are you tired?” I said I was. “Then you should rest a while on me, but I wish you didn’t pluck my leaves away,” it said. I apologized with a rather surprised but solemn face, due to the fact that a tree was talking to me, and I plucked away about six leaves from the branches. “It’s okay, I’ve had worst people than you,” the tree said.
I asked how old it was; it said it didn’t remember exactly, but probably around fifty years old. “Trees have bad memorization, because rain washes away some of our memories but also hydrates us,” the fifty-year-old said. Pollution came up in my mind, and I spit it out straight away. “I can’t breathe properly, sleep properly, or even grow properly. It should be stopped as soon as possible, or else all the trees would be deceased like my parents,” it explained.
Deforestation was another big subject. “It’s pure murder! It’s true homicide! Putting cutting machines into my friends and burning our habitats is genocide and a provocation of war!” the somehow-not-very-tall tree exclaimed. I asked how it could go to war with humans. “We can’t do anything; that is the problem. The Father gave us life, but did not give us the abilities of speech and movement. Our ancestors say what is done is done, and we should accept what we are given and put it to the best use.
However, even after fifty years, I am still frustrated by my traits. The only gift I have been given is to provide oxygen and scenery for the human race,” it explained. I objected that humans also help trees survive by watering them. “Yes, that is true, and we thank you, but the bad humans far outnumber the good,” the tree said. I asked what the sun was to it. “The sun is like a combination of all the people I’ve loved in my life, including my parents and the Father,” the somehow-very-wise tree said.
I also told it that what was made out of the other trees were objects that benefited the whole human race and other living things. “Is that so? Well, if it was to help others, then I have no appeal. However, if there is an endless genocide of trees, then there would be no more benefits,” the tree said.
I said there was a way to not start genocide and still get benefits. “Then that is the way it should be. I do not get why the human race have differing goals of survival,” the tree said. I asked who was the dumbest. “You of course, because you’re talking to a tree,” it joked. We laughed till our friendship imploded with happiness.
Submitted by: Bryan Tan ISNS Secondary Student