Wednesday, November 11, 2015

the Maple tree

There is an enormous Maple tree in my backyard.  It's branches reach up to the sky as wide as they are tall, a sort of grandfather protecting and observing everything we do.  In spring the blooms appeared early as if in expectant anticipation of the positive changes that were happening and the promise of the year to come.  But, as the thick and strong leaves shaded summer celebrations the tree looked on with sadness as plans came to a standstill and were replaced with shock and heartache.  The foliage reluctantly changed in late autumn, as though it was hesitant to admit time was moving on.  Now the tree stands empty, devoid, the branches bare and wanting.  All its covering bagged up and carted away, the last remaining witnesses to a year almost over.  How delicate a balance  between the time that moves on and the memories that remain.  
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