Anecdotes in green

Every leaf had a story to tell, every flower had a differently flavored essence, every branch was made of different spirit. Yet, they all belonged to one and the same.

I slipped out of my window, landing with yet another rather painful thud onto the grassy lawn. This had been my only escape mechanism these past few days. I mean, first they bring me to this farmhouse, a million miles away from humanity? Fine. And now, they wanted me to help plucking the weeds? Hell, no! This place had no internet, zero accessibility to anywhere beside more farms, and to top all that, it was as hot as the inside of a furnace. All I really wanted to do was get back home, get back my wifi, and IM my best friend, Harper.

A few miles from the old farmhouse was an old oak; thick, gnarled and rooted. It was my quiet retreat, a place where I could simply…be. Occassionally, I would hear a truck honk from the road behind, but otherwise, this place was incredibly silent and peaceful. I jogged away from the turned backs of my family, all bent over a patch of green. Placing my foot on a jagged protrusion on the bark of my oak, I climbed onto the nearest branch. From there, I climbed on and on until I was perched on a broad bough, far from prying eyes, nestled in between bushes of yellowish green oak leaves.

Today, I was profoundly irritated. I was so terribly angry that I had been brought to this place for my summer vacation! All the other girls, including Harper, were going to have so much fun, painting their nails and going for sleepovers! And I? I was stuck in this back country, what with its abundance of greenery and love for horses. If I wasn’t as stubborn as this, I’m quite sure Uncle Sam would have made me clean the stables.

I kicked out in front of me, unfortunately aiming right at a small branch peeking out from behind a bigger one. “Ouch!” I jumped. I looked all around me for any other sign of life. “Hey!! Won’t you apologize?” My eyes widening with fear, I was preparing to make a beeline for the farmhouse, when the tiny branch tapped me twice on my ankle, as if questioning. I rubbed my eyes. What was wrong with me? Branches don’t talk! “Um, yes, we do!” the puny branch said. It leaned forward and showed me a single leaf wiggling out the end of it. “Tell her, Mary!” it said to the leaf. The leaf almost looked up at me. “We know all about you, Dallas,” it said. Okay, that was it. The heat was making me go crazy. Before I could run away (either to the hospital or back home, I was still deciding) the branch said, “Don’t scare her away, Mary!”, and the leaf asked me to come back. “We’re alone too, and we don’t mind the company, even if you’re fairly challenging company!” I stopped my descent and turned back. It appeared that all the branches with all their little green leaves were stooping to get a good look at me.

A very small, tender leaf perked up, dancing about with the slight breeze. “Yesterday, after you left, Dallas,” it said to me, “A group of yellow butterflies came and settled on our tree! One even sat on me for a while!” I chuckled. I knew that this was surpassingly hysterical, yet, it was better than squatting at the framhouse and picking weeds. Raising myself to a bigger branch, I sat down again. “How sweet,” I smiled at the cute little leaf. It giggled. “Mumma, tell her about the parrots!” The branch from whose end this leaf was protruding spoke now, with a crisp voice. “If you hang back and stay a little longer into the evening, you too can see the parrots.” I grinned. Maybe today I’d get to see a parrot! “A boy just like you comes here often,” the leaf Mary said. “He comes here with a book and reads through the day.” I was curious. “A boy?” I asked, leaning in closer. “Don’t be silly,” the branch that first spoke to me snapped. “He’s from the city, and they’ve already left! Didn’t you see that metallic thing take them away yesterday?” I frowned. “What metallic thing?” I asked. From what the poor things described with too much difficulty, I gathered that they were talking about a car.

One by one, every leaf, every branch had a story to tell me. I hadn’t listened before, that was all. If I had, I would have made friends at this countryside as well. The supple pink flowers also told me all about the bees and the fascinating bugs with the sun on their butts! “Fireflies?” I had asked, for which I had gotten some rather puzzled stares. Interestingly, they all were very happy to be the only standing oak in the vicinity. They kept each other company, and according to one burly grandpa bough, the water all came to them. They didn’t have any competition!

I sat through the evening, listening to their tales, hugging the branch I was sitting on tightly. I got to see the parrots as well. They were so beautiful that we all remained hushed when they came by. What a sight they were, what with their lovely red noses and their long, bright tails! As the sun caressed the faraway mountains, and as the sky painted itself orange, I decided I had to get back.

Today, I had made so many new friends. Every one of them could write a biography of their adventures! If trees, standing in one place forever, could find such glee everyday, why couldn’t I? I knew that tomorrow I’d wake up to find that this had all been my imagination, my wild creativity acting out of sheer desperation. But I didn’t doubt this – that this tree understood me. I was wrong when I had thought that there was no sign of life around me on hearing something. There was more sign of life among wilderness than there was in the middle of the city painted grey with concrete. There was more joy in surrendering to bizarre fables narrated by leaves. And there was more happiness to be found among the anecdotes in green.

(Task 2 of title week – done!)