Over the years, I had grown from a tiny shrub into a tall bay tree, glossy and proud. I was home to various families of small birds, which fed on my berries, kept me company and amused me with their chattering and flittering in and out of my branches.
Then came axe and saw, and empty nests and amputated limbs landed in dust and brittle leaf litter. I trembled at the sound of the garden shredder.
That was two years ago. My branches no longer caress the gutter and there is no friendly creak in boisterous winds. But I stand strong, Birds have returned to perch among my glossy leaves, while I continue to exhale my noble pepper aroma.
Kim M. Russell, 2nd June 2019
My response to Poets United Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: A Pantry of Prose, #4 ~ From the Point of View of Trees
For today’s prompt, Magaly invites us to write new short stories, essays or articles (in 313 words or fewer), from the point of view of a tree. The secondary option is to take one of our old poems and turn it into a new short story (in 313 words or fewer).
I chose to re-write an old poem from October 2017 about our bay tree, which we reluctantly pollarded due to damage it was causing to our house. Some years ago, I wrote a story about the bay tree, which you can find here.
After having read the poem that inspired it and the previous story, this piece is balm on my heart. I know how hard pruning (and more drastic methods) can be. But it’s nice to think–to hope–that our trees understand that we must share the space. The alternative would hurt too much…
Love the ending. And goodness, do I ever understand moving on and growing and enjoying what we have left (after some bits have been chopped off for the best *giggles*).
LikeLiked by 2 people
😊
LikeLike
Nice. Let it enjoy the birds now 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
😊
LikeLike
It’s amazing what wars and carnage and loss of limbs humans and trees and others can survive from. I’m so happy your tree lives and has bird company again. Thanks for writing both poem and story.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks for reading and commenting, Susan.
LikeLike
I loved poem and story and am glad birds have returned to the stumps.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Sherry.
LikeLike
Ah, that last line brought a chuckle … very nicely done!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Wendy!
LikeLike
Perhaps we should think of pruning a woody plant as little more than getting a haircut! Whereas most annual flowers for instance could not tolerate a snip early in their lives. Mind you I still think that the Bay tree will get adventurous in a few years time.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Robin. I know from our willow that trees grow back stronger. I cut back the honeysuckle and now it’s growing right to the top of the cherry tree!
LikeLike
I’m glad of the (relatively) happy ending. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
🙂
LikeLike
It can be extremely hard to cut a tree, but it is sometimes necessary as in your case. They are resilient though, they recover. And I think a happy ending that the tree is hosting birds again.
LikeLiked by 2 people
And it hasn’t lost its peppery aroma1
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice recovery for the tree Kim! Does the fragrance of pepper make one sneeze?
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Rob. It’s nothing like pepper, thank goodness, or I would be sneezing!
LikeLike
A joyful (in the end) story–the recovery of the birds in the branches made me smile.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you for reading and I’m glad it made you smile, Wyndolyne.
LikeLike
I love it… how trees can be pruned and return stronger than ever… and some trees actually will thrive..
LikeLiked by 2 people
Do you remember when we had the willow pollarded? I wrote about that too, I felt terrible but it’s growing beautifully now.
LikeLike
I think the willows were pollarded to feed your cattle… but I might be wrong.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The garden’s not big enough for cattle! It was because the branches were tangled in the overhead electricity cables.
LikeLike
Oh, the necessary pruning, but it leaves and welcome birds again.
LikeLiked by 2 people
😊
LikeLike