The weathered cracks of an old man's crumpled face ran up to the sky, reaching gnarled branches and green leaves which blew with the gentle wind. Seated at the base of its trunk were two friends, a boy and a girl; twenty and twenty-one, respectively.
They were students at a nearby college. The two had been mingling for six months, and this had become their favorite spot. When they sat at the base of the tree together like this, they would talk for hours. They both adored nature, and to them this was as nice as it got; sitting against the massive tree and enjoying each other's conversation in a large empty meadow. Today they were smoking. They did that every now and then with one another, and as the smoke swayed upward it caressed against the tree's trunk.
It stirred.
Slowly the tree came to life, and immediately recognizing the sweetly sour odor, excitement came over him. He looked down and sure enough, there they were. The tree loved it when they came to visit him. He loved to listen to them talk, and he loved to watch them. They were his only friends, and they had no idea. The tree didn't see many people in his green open space, but when he did they were usually just passing through. He often sensed unhappiness from them. Though they could move around at will and the tree could not, he was never resentful or bitter. He was always cheerful.
Still, he had to admit that he could get very lonely. He was firmly planted in the middle of a green meadow, and nobody cared to spend time with him. That is, until recently, until this lovely pair befriended him. It wasn't with anyone, anything else but this boy and girl that the tree really felt human happiness. This was how humans are supposed to interact, he thought. They listened to each other happily, they had no greed but for the other's company. And they were in love, but they didn't know that yet.
Every other day they would come and sit underneath the tree, and he reveled in their company. They loved to talk about art, about philosophy, and the tree took such delight in listening to them. They spoke in a way with which he had no familiarity; with enthusiasm. They were of the same pleasant disposition as the tree; they didn't speak negatively and they were never upset. He didn't have any real grasp of what was boring or interesting, he just loved everything they had to say. Their voices hit his bark and reverberated inside his trunk, all the way up to his skyward branches and through his rustling leaves. As far as he was concerned, this was heaven.
"Did you hear about Professor Van Doren?" the girl asked.
"Yeah, and that girl," the boy answered, chuckling.
"It's not funny!" she snapped. "That's abusive physical contact."
Here they went again. The tree loved this; they could debate for minutes or for days, and he would listen intently to every word. He didn't know who was right, but it didn't matter. He could tell that the boy and girl didn't care either. They were wonderful like that.
The boy laughed again. "It's a man's first amendment right."
"Shut up," she laughed back. "Nowhere in the constitution does it say anything about it being okay for a guy to pinch a girl's ass just because he feels like it. That's how most men are, though.. they just see women as sex objects."
"No way," he protested. "If anything, women see men as sex objects. If they didn't they wouldn't wear all that makeup and perfume, and not to mention skirts, shoulder baring tops... they just see men as animals and think they can manipulate them using sex. You don't think so?"
She gave him a gentle shove and they shared more laughs, bathing in the sunlight which crashed through the tree's leaves. That's how they always were together, and the tree felt so privileged to witness it, to be their friend.
Soon autumn approached, and while his thin branches grew scant, his boy and girl still came to see him. There was an afternoon in particular when the tree saw something downright elating; the boy and girl clumsily rose from the points at which his roots would bury themselves into the soil(he loved it when they sat there). They were going to go their separate ways, and they gave each other a familiar look. By now the tree had memorized their movements: the boy's hands would be in his pockets with his head sinking slightly in between his shoulders, looking up at her. She would look back, her hands clasped in front of her, her head cocked gently to the side. They would share a warm smile, and soon one would either nod their head or wave their hand, and the other would mimic the action. Their eyes seemed to glow with eagerness, like they couldn't wait to see each other again. This was when they would say goodbye. But this time something different happened; the boy walked to her and opened his arms wide to either side, and the girl opened hers. Then they wrapped themselves around each other, her head resting on his shoulder and his atop hers. They were holding each other tightly, and while this only lasted for a moment, the tree was blown away.
All night the tree thought about it, listening to the singing of the crickets and the applause of the wind. He knew that they loved each other, and he pondered the meaning of that sort of embrace between two humans. He was familiar, thanks to his friends of course, with the concept of a soul, an inner entity within all people which is their pure being, their essence. He imagined them together again, and this time he thought about their souls. That maybe they loved each other so much they wanted to press themselves together, so hard that their very souls could touch just beneath their shells. Oh, how he wished he could do that! He too felt much love, and he longed to express it, to show his friends that he cared as well.
