Autumn; caramel syrup sunsets — sweet golden glows cascading slowly overtop a lush canopy of red rubies and yellow sapphires, jeweled leaves, swaying to the music of the wind, a melody deliciously fresh, crisp.

Winter; whitewashed skies — bitter stings of cold defeat hang in the hollowed eyes of trees, once tall and abundantly dressed in rich greenery, now stripped down to bare bones; skeletons shivering under the harsh touch of snow flying aimlessly, unyielding.


Spring; peekaboo blue sky — honeyed slivers of sunbeams, poured over salted-rock tar and iced lakes, melting down, thawing out. Naked, the trees appear unready for the songbirds returning to perch, but though their bark is raw from winter’s heavy wrath, the thin branches, like twists of wanting fingers, reach high up in the sky, waiting to take a sip of sunshine. Fading snow, steady streams circle and weave around the tree; the massive trunk’s vessels expand and constrict with fresh water traveling from its tiny roots to its pointed crown, where the leaves will grow once more, free-flowing.

Summer; thick, heavy heat — warm wind gusts painting the sky a gentle blue haze. Down below, the tree welcomes the flow; a balmy breeze climbing its branches and tickling its deep emerald leaves, saying hello. Rustling, the sleeping tree wakes, washed by sweet drops of morning dew. Its foliage fresh now, leaves tilted to the sun, the tree whispers, “thank you for bringing me back to life, anew.”

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