As a young man I planted a tree in my backyard.
over the next few years the tree shot up growing bigger and stronger than I thought possible.
Each day I walked out of my house to be greeted by the tree.
It stood tall and strong, almost as if it was proud being a tree.
Over 100 feet tall and greater then 10 metres around.
The tree stood defiant of the world around it.
Unwavering and unmoving.
I grew to respect and admire this mighty tree.
Knowing it would outlive me.
One day a gentleman asked me if he could take a sample of the tree.
Telling me that the tree was beautiful and rare, I was swayed by his words.
So he took his sample and was on his way.
How incredible was this tree.
One day someone comes by and asks if they could cut down my tree.
I’m shocked at the suggestion, and politely tell them I could never destroy something so beautiful.
One day I come out of my house to see someone cutting into my tree.
Shocked, I race over to stop them.
How dare they come into my yard and start cutting down my tree.
Several days later I come out to find 3 people cutting into my tree.
With anger burning I rush over to stop them.
As they leave I look at the damage they have caused.
How could they?
Weeks go by and the tree begins to heal, and the memory fades.
Sitting on my porch one sunny afternoon, I look down at my beautiful tree.
Someone casually strolls by and says ‘hello’.
As I watch, they walk to the tree and begin cutting.
Yelling out, they stop to look at me, pausing for a moment.
Ignoring me they continue cutting.
As I rise from my chair 3 more people walk by.
They being cutting as well.
Racing to the tree I cry out, in disbelief; “Stop”
They pause for a moment, but continue cutting.
As I reach the tree, I push them away.
Looking at the 3 of them, I can still hear the crack of wood cutting.
Confused, I look around to see another person cutting into the tree.
Furious I race over to stop them as well.
As I reach them, they stop cutting to look at me; however the cracking sounds continue.
Turning around I can see the others have returned to cutting into the tree.
Frantically I being to lash out, desperate to protect my tree from harm.
Racing around the tree, my legs begin to ache, my arms begin to hurt and my voice goes horse.
I am now a raving lunatic trying desperately to save his tree.
I eventually scare everyone away and I am left alone once again with the tree.
As I look at the tree, I can see it leaning under the weight of itself.
The sap is pouring out of the marks that have been carved into its sides.
Looking at the tree, I begin to weep.
Shedding the tears, the tree would if it was able too.
As I look upon the tree, it is missing branches; looking sad and helpless.
I remember how strong and mighty the tree once looked and it only makes me hurt more.
Starring up at the tree I know it will never recover to its former self.
Never again will it stand tall and proud.
Looking at the tree, I feel the dread creep in; knowing that my life will now out live the tree.
Walking to the shed, I grab my axe.
Walking to the tree, I feel the weight of the axe in my hands.
With a swing of the axe, I feel the tree vibrate up through the handle.
Each blow feeling as though I am cutting into myself.
Each blow taking a peace of my heart, crack.
My hands begin to bleed and the tears are flowing down my face.
With each blow I remember how incredible the tree once was.
There is a thud as the tree hits the ground.
Looking at it lay on the ground, I collapse from exhaustion.
Finding the strength, I pick up my tools and begin to work.
Over the coming months, I chip away at the tree.
Trying to capture the beauty that was the tree.
Sitting in my lounge room, I rest my coffee cup on the table in front of me.
Looking at the table, I can still feel the sting of the loss.
It had been an incredible tree and I wish it was still growing.
However that is not how the story ended, it is now a beautiful table in my house.
There will come a day when I will plant another tree, for now however I will enjoy my coffee.