I’m pretty sure, to the point of being certain, that this tree is saying “F*ck you Autumn”. Not that I often go around assuming the private conversations or filthy language of inanimate objects, but, well, this one really seemed to be trying to say something. While the other trees are fighting Autumn with their still lush greens, and others embracing it with their warm reds and golds, this one right here, this one is not having any of it. I believe it transpired as follows:
Mr. Tree: What’s this? I seem to be changing colour. My leaves are drying up and I’m getting quite the draft up my lower trunk.
Fellow Tree: But of course! The sunny season is withdrawing and we now prepare for the big white. Welcome to what the tiny two leggers call Autumn! It seems you are an early bloomer Mr. Tree.
Mr. Tree: It gets worse?!
Fellow Tree: Oh yes, but look how handsome you are. You wouldn’t happen to be free for a sway in the breeze later would you?
Mr. Tree: Huh? Look, I’m really freaking out about this big white, slash, Autumn business you’ve just dumped on me. What use am I like this?! How can I shade the tiny two leggers, or house the little flying animals that sing, or filter the air? This is really inconvenient you know.
Fellow Tree: Just go with it Mr. Tree. You look hot.
Mr. Tree. I’m not hot. I’m bloody cold, and now you’re telling me it’s going to get worse. Well, F*ck you Autumn. I’m not interested in any of this in between nonsense. I want to be at my best dammit! [Cue shedding of leaves]
Fellow Tree: *gasp* But Mr. Tree! What have you without your looks?!
Mr. Tree: My dignity!
I sympathise with Mr. Tree, I really do. I often feel that if I can’t be my best, show my worth and exhibit my finest leaves, then well, I’d rather not show anything at all. I think this often makes me try harder, and attempt to better myself and my writing, because I only want to be my best. But what I often forget, like Mr. Tree, is that sometimes, even when you’re not at the top of your game, someone out there like Fellow Tree, might appreciate it and even on occasion like it more for what it is. So, even though I respect Mr. Tree for wanting to be his best, for defending his dignity, I do believe it’s just as important to embrace the ‘flaws’, the bits in between greatness and defeat. After all, someone out there might just love you for it.
N.B. No trees were harmed in the making of this story.