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What if Trees could think and Talk?

Happy Halloween! Here I sit pecking away at the keyboard like a hen in the dirt, my only sources of light are a desk lamp and the glow of this screen. Behind me is a window that’s currently more of a dark mirror than a view of our driveway.

Yup, Halloween 2020 and later today, we’ll be setting up a candy scavenger hunt for our kids that’ll take place this evening in our yard (some glow tape will be wrapped around the packaging to make things a little easier).

Just an interesting factoid, before I get to the promised tree-thingy. On the radio yesterday, I heard that this will be the first time since 1944 that we will have a full moon on Halloween . . . anyone else hearing Warren Zevon’s – “Werewolves Of London”? At the end the radio announcer said, “What do you expect, it’s 2020.”

Ummm . . . well yes, but, in 1944 the world was still in the grips of WWII, I’m sure those must have been strange and scary times, too.

So, yesterday, as I was out for a walk and admiring the flora, my kooky mind decided to explore a ‘what if’. What if trees, just for one night, let’s say, Halloween, could think and talk? Would they compare bark complexion? Gripe about never getting to redeem points on their travel reward cards, or perhaps the loud mouthed crows that perch on their limbs? When they creak in the wind, are they really groaning about aches and pains, especially the oaks. Ya, they seem like whiners to me, and they do get really old. So here’s my compilation, there’s a few of them, maybe I got carried away, but I think it’s important that someone speaks for these stoic sentinels that do so much for us.

“So you actually stay the same color all year? (snicker) Ooo . . . looks like someone’s green with envy!”

“Hayyy, Tony, ya ‘no watt? I thinnk we’ve jus’ mite ‘ave had tooo mush, sap.”

“Why, you young whippersapling! All you do all day is show off! It’s like ‘Look at me! I still have some hair and all my branches!’ Just wait till some beetle bores into you someday!”

“My two-hundreth birthday and they dress me up like a preschooler’s playground!”

“Thirty-years! Thirty-years of doing the limbo! My back is KILLING me! If I had a mouth, at least I could take a pain killer.”

“Ha! We have leaves and you’re all bald! Nope, nothing you can do about it ’cause you can’t move!”

It wasn’t until he grew up that Ralph became aware that the rumors about his dad being a giraffe were true.

“Well, Jake, I think when the Nut Hatchinsons come back next year, I’m going to raise the rent on the penthouse.”

“Hey, any of you guys ever get a gnawing pain in your belly?”

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Author, Mark Bierman
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