the silver maple

Metaphors

Drew, his dad, and I were walking around the house while the others worked at re-planting a tree nearby. I pointed out this shoot, sprouting from the silver maple’s trunk, and remarked that it seemed out of place. Drew suggested that it could be a baby branch, but his dad corrected him and said that the tree was probably sick. He said that if we looked up, we could see the dead spots among the branches. Fifty or sixty feet above our heads, you could see bald spots where leaves had stopped growing.

This is a tree that knows it may die. And so, it plans for the future.

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