A Statue to the Seasons

I stood alone on the plains and learned to bend at the whims of the winds.  In the beginning I was a little whippet of a tree.  My roots were shallow allowing me to drink in the water from the frequent spring rains.  I grew so quickly that my trunk did not expand and grow to give me the strength I needed to withstand the harsh winds and winters on the plains, so I leaned away from the winds until at last my trunk could stand tall and grow towards the clouds.  Then, I stood strong.  I knew to grow toward the clouds, the ever changing scenes they cast gave me strength and willpower.   I survived the storms and my family grew all around me creating a circle of cottonwoods all learning to dance while young and supple.  



The twins grew together west of my corner on the field, fighting for survival against the same elements I battled, and  yet, like a proud father I surveyed the lands and watched my saplings grow and change with seasons.    Droughts occurred and I stood still in the heat, my roots pushed and groaned through the dry black soil in search of water.  I let my leaves turn yellow and drop early to the ground in the seasons without rains.  

One year the rains turned to ice before my top heavy leaves dropped to the ground.  During the frozen night I felt as my spine cracked, groaned, and split, but still I stood strong.  More seasons passed as I stood broken and split and I waved and watched as animals on two legs, four legs, and those on wings came my way.  Noises often caused my branches to bend in search of meows and growls.  Many animals called me home and I protected them from the winds, cold, rains, and other animals. 

More seasons passed, and one spring as I gazed over the prairie as the sunset blazed and roared approaching me, not setting behind the lands end.  The deer ran, the birds took flight, the mice buried themselves deep between my roots, but I stood strong.  When it bit me, it felt like nothing I'd ever experienced.  It was a hot scorching flame that burned me and my family.  My browns turned black.

 My green leaves popped and burst and were swept into the ashen air.  When at last the burning sensation set I was stiff, stricken with pain.  The young sprouts around me were tiny black sticks still standing and pointing toward the clouds.




The rains came back followed by the whims of the winds, and I stood strong.  Once again the green grass grew tall on the prairie and I guarded those who needed shelter.  It was the season of brown grass and cold North winds that took its toll on my broken body causing me to fall.  My frozen limbs were no match for the endless days of snow and ice.  One night I felt the crack and suddenly the ground caught my limbs and heavy trunk.  

Now, I remain a statue now to the seasons, to those I protected, and to those who glanced my way.

Facing NE.  It stood like this for several years.

Bethany Krafels took this shot facing West.
Amazing isn't it, the influence of ONE tree.