Picture yourself in the backseat of a car, looking out the window to see miles upon endless miles of lush green rolling by. It's been a good year with the rains. Healthy, tall, swaying crops are waiting to be harvested. And then, out of nowhere there's a barren tree on the horizon. Standing by itself, lonesome; abandoned by its own leaves.
And it just takes your breath away.
The silhouette of black looks stunning against the clear blue sky, and with a carpet of green kissing its feet.
One immediately wonders what stories and lifetimes this Ent descendant has been witness to. Did it once make a favourite rendezvous spot for young teens to share their first kiss? Or did it give much needed shade to the tired farmer after hours of sowing under the harsh sun? Did it stand tall and green in the lean years when the drought hit the crops? Did a mother sit underneath to feed her babe while she waited for the father to fetch some water from the well nearby? Does it still hold the secrets of a thousand conversations, secrets shared with the pink sunset skies for company? Maybe all this, and more.
The rich history it has been a part of is in stark contrast to its sterile present. And that perhaps explains the beauty of a lonely soul which appears to shine despite the brightness all around it. The stories told (and promises of stories untold) are what make the gloomy interesting.
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