The song of the trees..!

It was a simple ceremony I was asked to perform; planting a tree. "Bob," said the Chairman of the municipal garden as we stood around the gardeners and the earth was dug, "one day when you bring your grandchildren to the park, you can tell them the tall tree in the middle was planted by you!"
I hold tender Jacaranda in my hands and carefully place it into small hole that has been dug. The people clap and the gardener takes over and fills in the rest of the soil. I look back as I leave the garden and its tiny branches seem to wave at me, a new bond formed twixt little tree and me.
I get into my car and drive home and am about to enter my compound when a neighbour stops me, his face none too pleasant.
"Your tree!" he hisses.
"Ah I know I just planted it!"
"Your tree!" he hisses again, "is blocking my view!"
"Oh!" I tell him, realizing he isn't talking about my little Jacaranda, but another in my compound, which grows tall and strong, "I'm sorry!"
"Cut it!" he hisses.
"I'll trim the branches!" I promise.
"Cut it down!" he threatens again, "its a menace!"
"Sorry!" I tell him, "I'll trim the branches, but it's not going to be axed!"
I drive in furious, and wonder how in the space of a few minutes I'd been asked to plant a tree and axe another.
"We are creators and destroyers!" I whisper to myself.
I stare at the trees through my window, their branches swaying in the breeze, leaves creating melody that soothes and calms, yet music not heard by some. I look down and see same neighbour glaring up at me.
"Come over!" I tell him.
"What?" he shouts.
"Come over home!"
He comes, slightly puzzled, I take him to same window and sit him down, "Coffee?"
"Tea!" he says and we sit silent. Slowly I feel his head turn, he hears the whispering outside, he sees the branches nodding, the tea comes and he sips it slowly, taking his time. We don't speak as we listen to nature's voice, gentle, persuasive.
He looks at me and smiles, "Don't!"
"Don't axe the tree?"
"Don't even trim the branches!"
I walk next day in the park, and spot lil' Jacaranda which I've planted, I bend over, touch its leaves and whisper, "If only people would listen to nature."
"Most don't," whispers wise little fellow back to me, "they need to be brought to us by you to hear the song of the trees..!"      
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The song of the trees..!

It was a simple ceremony I was asked to perform; planting a tree. Bob, said the Chairman of the municipal garden as we stood around the gardeners and the earth was dug, one day when you bring your grandchildren to the park, you can tell them the tall tree in the middle was planted by you! I hold tender Jacaranda in my hands and carefully place it into small hole that has been dug. The people clap and the gardener takes over and fills in the rest of the soil. I look back as I leave the garden and its tiny branches seem to wave at me, a new bond formed twixt little tree and me. I get into my car and drive home and am about to enter my compound when a neighbour stops me, his face none too pleasant. Your tree! he hisses. Ah I know I just planted it! Your tree! he hisses again, is blocking my view! Oh! I tell him, realizing he isnt talking about my little Jacaranda, but another in my compound, which grows tall and strong, Im sorry! Cut it! he hisses. Ill trim the branches! I promise. Cut it down! he threatens again, its a menace! Sorry! I tell him, Ill trim the branches, but its not going to be axed! I drive in furious, and wonder how in the space of a few minutes Id been asked to plant a tree and axe another. We are creators and destroyers! I whisper to myself. I stare at the trees through my window, their branches swaying in the breeze, leaves creating melody that soothes and calms, yet music not heard by some. I look down and see same neighbour glaring up at me. Come over! I tell him. What? he shouts. Come over home! He comes, slightly puzzled, I take him to same window and sit him down, Coffee? Tea! he says and we sit silent. Slowly I feel his head turn, he hears the whispering outside, he sees the branches nodding, the tea comes and he sips it slowly, taking his time. We dont speak as we listen to natures voice, gentle, persuasive. He looks at me and smiles, Dont! Dont axe the tree? Dont even trim the branches! I walk next day in the park, and spot lil Jacaranda which Ive planted, I bend over, touch its leaves and whisper, If only people would listen to nature. Most dont, whispers wise little fellow back to me, they need to be brought to us by you to hear the song of the trees..! [email protected]