IMG_1329Do you ever wonder what trees think in the fall?

Do they wonder why their leaves gradually die? Are they confused by the process of what is happening to them? Are they surprised to find themselves stripped bare one day? Do they feel cold? Do they feel lonely? Do they feel exposed?

Are they jealous of the birds that land on their branches? The strength, the freedom, the life they possess? Do they wish they could feel the wind through their branches the way the birds feel it beneath their wings? Do they wish they could pull up their roots and fly away, leaving the dreariness and emptiness behind? Do they wish their colors still shone as brightly as the cardinal or the bluebird? Do they feel trapped, earthbound, alone?

Do they question their creator? Do they wonder why they have to experience so much death each year? Do they ever get angry, wishing they had fists to shake at the one who controls their destiny? Or do they wonder if there is a higher power at all to appeal to, if their faith has been misguided somehow? Do the pray? Do they seek? Do they yearn for a word that will make everything all right? Do they feel abandoned?

Most of all, do they wonder if they can come back? Is there ever a year they wonder if the color green will return to their branches once the winter is over? Do they wonder if the fight to withstand the cold, bitter months is really worth it? Are they fearful they will still be bare in the spring, the summer, and beyond? Do they shudder at the thought that their usefulness is over, that they will fall, that no one will notice if they are gone?

I do.
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