by Donna R. (Cole) Carter, copyright 1988, all rights reserved.
It happened one morning:
Having been in hiding within the tree branch
it became warm enough
for me to venture out into the world outside.
Finding it comfortable,
over the next few weeks, I
pushed out on my own...
me and my buddy right next to me, that is.
Once we got going,
we decided to race each other -
just for the fun of it.
"I'll still be the stronger when it's over."
We never talked, never communicated,
but we knew what we were thinking.
The bond was there:
We were growing together
on the same branch,
right next to each other.
I had never seen anything but the
inside of the tree
and to come outside and open a leaf
was a totally new experience to me.
COLORS!
and I was one of them!
Amazing things - like the elements:
which scared me often and
made me cling for my very life at times.
My buddy and I would,
rather than fear the elements,
turn the fear into a competition,
a silent bet that the one,
or the other,
would hold out longer,
or come up with the least damage...
That was the Spring.
Blue sky,
green grass,
sunshine to warm us.
We were healthy and vigorous.
As the weather got still warmer,
we thrived in the sunshine but
the wind kept us exercising,
the rain pelted down on us -
we needed the water, but at times
even the rain was too much
for some of my brothers to bear,
and they fell beneath us,
soon to be blown away by the wind.
Summer moved in, full force:
Severe sunshine beating down on us
for longer and longer days,
We became thirsty,
but the tree kept us going,
supplying the necessary nutrition
for us to survive.
My buddy and I were still
keeping tabs on each other,
sharing meals together,
hanging on for the other if
storms became
too much for one alone.
We became close
instead of competing
we encouraged
we grew up in the Summer.
We began to see the good things
in the elements...
The rain bringing us a good bath
and water,
the sunshine giving us strength,
and warmth,
the wind - if nothing else,
keeping the bugs away!
As summer wore on,
we too began to age.
By the end of Summer,
my buddy and I were adults.
Pushing out of the branch
was a lifetime away.
Every so often we'd look back and remember.
Sometimes in a knowing way,
Sometimes in a longing way,
Sometimes,
utterly sad that it was past.
Fall caught us by surprise,
age came quickly.
We could feel new buds
beginning way behind us in the branch.
We were being displaced.
we were elderly.
We would hang on.
The weather chilled.
The tree became less
generous with nutrition for us,
the new lives behind us
were hoarding all our food!
My buddy and I weren't the first to panic.
The wind rustled rumors through the branches:
"It's over! It's over!
One of us is already dead and
There's no hope!"
My buddy and I looked at one another,
still silent, thinking:
"I'll still be the stronger
when this is over."
With less and less nutrition,
weather getting colder and colder,
more and more of our brothers were falling,
dead and dying
to the cold, hard ground below.
My buddy and I clung on -
to the branch and
to each other.
"Please! Let us both live!"
He was getting weaker,
and knowing this,
he,
without telling me,
quit absorbing
even the little bit of
life he was allotted from the tree:
He gave it to me.
It was not long after
that he became first yellow,
then red-orange,
then part of him was turning brown.
Death.
My buddy was dying.
I hung onto him.
I tried to push life into him.
Brown.
Spreading brown.
"Please, No. Not him!"
He let go of me.
He let go of the branch.
I still clung to him,
but my own strength dwindled.
"No!
No!
You can be the stronger when it's over!
Don't let go!
Don't give up!"
and the wind rustled through the branches,
"He's dead.
Let him go."
and he lifted my buddy from my weak grasp,
floating him through the air
to the cold,
hard
ground.
I looked down on him.
My buddy!
My buddy!
I grieved.
So alone now.
So many brothers had died.
I was one of the last left
on the whole tree.
-but only because
he had given me
his last portion of life!
Something new happened.
White snowflakes drifted down from the sky.
I watched my buddy.
He disappeared under the piling snow.
So cold.
So tired.
The snow is piling up on my branch.
Piling and piling.
... my buddy ...
It happened:
One mourning.
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