The Boy and The Tree

A boy saw a lone tree, in the middle of the field amidst living carpet of grass. He was enchanted by its silhouette and made his way towards it. From afar the tree was different, but now when the boy saw the tree, it was dry and dying. Its branches, brittle, were waiting to fall. There, on its very top, a black crow was seen perching, chirping a tune as if celebrating the tree’s death. Then, it flew away, leaving only the little boy and the large tree.

The boy looked at the tree again. It must be majestic before, with green leaves and moist lichen all over it, the boy thought, but now, the tree was losing its life, sapped away to unknown territory. His eyes wandered around the field. The rest of the trees were far away, still breathing, still evergreen, yet this big one in front of him, how did it grow here, alone by itself? How did it die?

He imagined if his life would be the same. What if his life was good only in the beginning? He would have friends, loving mom and dad, siblings. He pictured his future, the time when his muscles were flailing, when his feet would not be able to walk, when his vision became blurry. Would there be anyone to stay with him, to coax him, to take care of him? Was he destined to die in silence, in isolation? What would the boy's last image be? Would it be his family all around him or just the zinc ceiling of his house? Would he be alone like the tree?

The boy stopped his imagination and looked back at the tree. The wind was getting colder. The lasts of the leaves started to fall down, landing just near his feet. It would not be long before the tree became a skeleton of its former self. The boy hugged himself tight, defying the cold weather. Black sky was looming over the horizon, yet his gaze was fixed to that same old tree. Then, his feet started to move back, one by one, and he turned around.

His mom was calling him. The boy carved a smile and ran towards her, but halfway through, he stopped and watched the tree again in fascination – or perhaps puzzlement. He made up his mind. He did not want his life to reminisce the tree, and he continued on with his steps.