Trees and their Thoughts

Some may find it unusual for this time of year that oak trees began descending from the skies. Others however, find this to be not quite as unusual as a posse of elm trees descending from the skies. Albeit both parties agree in equal amounts that for both to happen simultaneously and as surreptitiously as they did, warrants a recording in canon of bizarreness to match that of other Unexplained Mysteries, such as the Yeti, or Lenny Henry.

Regardless, this unusual event had to be dealt with, and so I spoke thus:

“Hark at what I say! See these mighty trees descending from the heavens like snowflakes lighting upon a barren dune in an untamed desert!”

By now all who paid attention due to being startled at someone using the word ‘Hark’ in this day and age had grown weary of my description and had wandered off further into their lives, probably to buy popcorn, bread or perhaps a stamp for an envelope containing a letter they had yet to post to a distant relative in Iowa, detailing recent family events and to boast about the new koi pond in the Zen garden they have had recently installed. Or maybe the letter was to the local council, complaining about the conduct of the milkman and his gang of unruly Dobermen. Or perhaps, there was no letter at all, maybe not even a stamp, and they had instead gone to a coffee shop for tea and scones. Or coffee and cake. (There are far too many more possibilities for me to attempt to list here, and such a venture is irrelevant and a thankless task, akin to an Eskimo gritting his driveway.)

And so, driven by my curiosity and thirst to satisfy it, I marched forth into the newly-landed forest and attempted to find out the source and cause of the trees coming from the skies, and doing so may shed a metaphorical light onto the moral of this story. I made my way to the tallest and grandest of all the trees that had taken root here, and I was amazed to see Lenny Henry standing there. Truly, I was truly amazed.

He explained to me that he was the spokesperson for the trees, which was odd because I never even asked him what he was doing there, and also because it was fitting in with the natural oddness of this story. Nevertheless he proceeded to tell me more, despite the fact that I hadn’t even asked him to. I was beginning to find him rude, intrusive and slightly telepathic.

He told me that trees had begun taking to living in the skies as they feared for their lives here on earth. The explanation further developed into some sort of ludicrousy, with his telling me that the ground sure didn’t like the way it was being treated, so now it was moving back to the sea. This was the second reason trees were ascending; they needed somewhere new to live.

You see, trees cannot swim, nor can they breathe underwater, but they can apparently fly into the heavens and live amongst clouds. I did then endure the wrath of Mr. Henry and his woody acquaintances by pointing that humans built boats out of wood and airplanes out of metal, ergo they could attempt floating on the sea to protect themselves.

Not being beings being trees as these who did not take kindly to logic, promptly persuaded young Lenny to bellow at me until I left the forest. I did not take exception to this one iota as I was glad to leave. However, the whole ordeal had frightened me to the point that I began recycling all I could and took to disposing of my litter in the appropriate alloted refuse containment containers we know as the humble bin.

Thus my story is concluded. I am eco-friendly now, because I am afraid of angry trees and Lenny Henry.

THE END

© Kris Blackburn 02/11/07

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