The Girl Who Talked to Trees
by Linda Courtland
The tree knew things.
It knew why the mailman was flirting with the farmer’s wife.
It knew who had dressed all the sheep in lingerie.
And it knew how to keep secrets.
When the girl hopped the fence, the tree observed her disheveled hair and scrawny build.
“I can hear you,” the girl said, facing its trunk defiantly.
The tree didn’t know how to respond. It was used to keeping everything inside.
The girl came back the next day, sitting between exposed roots. She talked about her pet lizard and the boy she kind of liked, and she insisted the tree share details about its day.
The tree sent loving energy but didn’t speak, and the girl knew something must be done.
For the next few weeks, they sat in silence, hand to branch, sharing strength in the stillness.
Finally, the tree found the courage to start a conversation. They discussed dandelions and caterpillars and global warming and loneliness.
As it turned out, the tree had a lot to say.
The girl and the tree had lively debates and by springtime, the chatty tree had released the secrets trapped within its leaves.
The tree revealed its skeletal frame to the forces of nature, and the girl’s body started to change and curve.
And the tree modeled support for the girl by reaching toward a vast horizon, its striking silhouette ready for new growth.