The fall breeze brings colorful confetti to my lingering eyes. They constantly change but there’s no mistaking them every season. Without fail, the causes manage to come back to life when they loose its vibrant green coat and source of food. Even so, it gives me a source I need to survive. The air I breathe depends on the love I will always have, the trees.
These tall friends of mine never complain whenever they go through harsh weather or undeserved vandalism. They don’t interrupt your long rants about budget cuts and long school days. The willows and oaks give a shoulder to cry on when no one is around. It’s a trunk to hug in times of joy and happiness. It’s a place to just share everything like your secrets or gossip. The only words they say are from nature itself.
Anywhere I go, trees are my constant companions. Trees are my guardian angels watching when others don’t. Being huge or just a sapling, they spread their arm-like branches in a welcoming stretch, waiting for me to fall into their embrace. Playing Marco Polo sure hurts when finding them, although, I don’t care about the pain. That just means my friends are firm and won’t let me fall on my face when I bump into them. Their open auras make up for it.
“Run,” the trees would whisper.”Weave yourself through our maze and then come back for another. Skip around us in circles.” There is no one I would rather be with than the trees and their leaves. I feel whole, complete. We are each other’s strength. I’ll always love them even if they’re bald. We have a connection no one can break except through death. Aside from my future husband, my love and adoration for trees is set. No changing it, and that’s a fact for the rest of my life.