If tall trees could talk

If trees could speak up, what say? If trees could speak up, do not know about you, but I want a bit 'nervous and a little' curious. Oh, and reminds me of my nerves, day curious ways in the middle of a large oak. Play.

One day I went to play after lunch, and you will not believe what has happened. As I sat behind a large, large oak, I heard a noise. It was not just noise, but one voice. This voice was soft, but increases with every creaksheet and the wind whistled at every branch. It was as if the wind blew through the trachea of an old wooden flute. When I put my ear closer to the structure I heard the sound of sarcasm, as the tree directly asked me if armchairs right Her favorite was root. Of course I was speechless, but could only respond: "Well, I think I am." Nervously, I stepped back. At that time an acorn, as if sent from the big oak tree that fell, only to hit me directly in the head."Ahhw" I cried! Then a voice asked me once, sit back and relax and prepare for a longer history. I decided to sit down and talk, after all, trees are generally not in the sense that to understand that this is a man. However, I was curious and eager to get valuable information from this oak aged, and I was able and willing, what the tree needs to be told.

The wind took a sudden and huge oak, "cried Thanks for your time, sit down andlisten. "Most people do not feel today! "You know, I'm sitting here in this land up to 442 years and you're the first?" Call it luck, call it fate, say your talent, say what you want, but you seem to hear my words and this is my time as yours. "I was really surprised, to say the least, and of course, pending the knowledge and wisdom, you might learn from their opportunity to win a timeless, so I said the tree tell me more!"

"I wanted youknow, "said the oak," The four and a half centuries ago, when I was little acorn of an oak is much smaller than me, which directly Sat where the road now runs. It 's a drop, thirty of forty feet, I was I suppose. interesting, I landed on the head of a person very different from today: He wore leather, feathers and some had red skin. It was much simpler and almost as long as human beings, even though very few seemed all that said, we feel trees.When they heard we felt safe. When they heard that there might be necessary to our survival. As a fact, that young red-skinned person I planted long ago, not far from the tree at this spot where I root! He took the time to place my life ... It took time to provide for nature. So instead of always just eat a squirrel, I'm here centuries later, a column in your neighborhood, a lucky survivor of industrialization and expansion! "Wow, I cried, I never understood yourTravel. "Tell me more!" Well, as I said before, there were many friendly people living in this territory for centuries. They were very quiet and lead a simple life. One thing I always remember is that they have given back every time you took something from us trees, animals or anything else for that matter. We were safe in this report. Over time, however, moved to change things. Everything has changed. First, people have started to move near my woods. Always loud noises. Her skin wasa lighter color is white and not speak or act the same. Although many seemed very nice, some not. These people are not so good with those who have lived many years in my quiet woods. I have seen many agreements and treaties of peace between these people new lighter skin and red skin man. These agreements are not kept, many continue to die under the forest floor, disease and discord. The red skin people were executed for my wood, and as we were sadand the willows wept. It seemed that the forest was a thing worth killing for. They fought for decades to a bloody end. Finally, besides the lighter skin color of people and expanded. I was just a small tree at the time and I remember just trying to survive the cold winter. I have seen so many fair-skinned people are dying of hunger and cold, but always come. I have witnessed many of my oak, maple, birch and pine cut from the brothers living earth. They were stacked neatly on fourPages and people lived in their structure. Some called them houses, I asked them a dark fate. Many of us have been burned alive, to keep these foreign visitors, and cry with each chop or saw-tooth, I cried.

Years later carved the skin color of the most lightweight way through my family and friends and started riding through it. As bad as we felt so helpless to do anything; lost our security. Soon there was much shouting and shoving on something calledtaxation without representation, and then broken by chaos. Breach of life, as though I've never seen before. Many have fought for my forest in red and blue. So many people have died in my forest. The buzzards and birds that lived much of my branches now scoured the battlefields of death for a meal abnormal. How sad it was to see so many dead. Life off again on disagreements. Their blood drained to the ground and leaves me. "I was from what I've heard scary to think but howIndeed found in front of my house and I never knew its existence! "I also said," tell me more great oak! "

Now, many years after something terrible has happened. Although I saw some people who were very dark skin, as they grew in numbers began to be treated worse. They were treated less than dogs white skin people. With the prospect of a bird, I drilled through the forest over a large area under cultivation, where these dark-skinned men were whipped and beatenHe worked in hot so I was so involved in emotions, I tried to cover it with my branch to rest in the shade. I had my roots planted only prudent, but wait for me in a liquor angry squeak. One night I heard the dogs barking in the misty field. They came closer, as if hunting for a negro. However, they were hunting for raccoons or animals for that, but a dark-skinned people. Behind him were two white men with torches flickering in the night and a grimace of hateFaces. With a nerve in the moonlight, they captured the man and made an attempt to hang on my arm. I could not stand for such crimes. Since they tied the rope around my office and removed the horse under his legs, I kept only for a moment. When the men left, and the dog, I broke my arm. Following a moderate amount swallowed dark skin man ran free. I realized, physically, was temporarily free, but in his mind and thoughts of others, he would continue his fight forFreedom. If you look hard you can still see the scar I have from this branch broken from years past. Remember to care friend, scars remain forever, if you mix bad people.

It was not long before a man named Abraham Lincoln did his best for dark-skinned man free. So much so, not the most bloody war broke out. It was simply a war of right and wrong, but would not be so easy. We, however, like trees, maple, oak, pine or birch could be seen only in horror. Fees, horses, soldiersBlue and gray. They fought and killed his wife and children were crying. It 'was terrible. "Listening to great story oaks, I was in tears and could barely say a word about the great oak." "What comes after I intended to ask." Well, one evening a group of soldiers tied their refuge in my trunk. They sat at a campfire, with obscure words that I heard. A soldier talks about his brother, as the struggle to free slaves, and if his brothers own life would be a possibility. Another soldier said:his hatred of blacks and given his chance when murder in the first place, it found. Another soldier died sitting at my local liquor, close your browser. He was bleeding from a wound in battle and screamed in agony. This morning is dead, and called his comrades. When they moved to their positions later, I thought it was bigger and bigger, I was more human blood through my roots. It seemed that my growth could not take the darkness grows large in a world where beauty was certainlypossible. As the wind blew in these terrible years that have trees with every wind, praying that the war was over, and the prisoner was free. We could not keep the trees a new life on our store as instruments of murder. In a moment of hope that war to end and people have the right blacks were physically free. As with any evil plan, however, would not end the murder of a man so until more blood is spilled.

Can you hear that train in the distance? "Sure, I cried, you go throughCity three times a day, morning, noon and night. "Yes, yes, but, you know, why come? Here I saw the railroad roots becomes reality. Men dream and then realized, most were men with light skin have not spoken once, but a people, white men called yellow. the yellow man is called so often, the railroad to build. I have experienced. pavement, sweating, bleeding and working conditions at all hours of day and night. They were treated like other less than dogs or animals.However, they have built so much support so many in these countries, like others, were also killed and who they were exploited. Just as people fear for their safety even in color and life, that with industrialization and technology has the oaks, maples, pines and birches are also uncertain. I saw a mirror image of black people living in the lives of my fellow trees.

The fight for the freedom of those people with dark skin and yellow, and, inothers. "Remember that red-skinned people I mentioned earlier?" "Yes, I remember," they continue in their struggles between these countries. I remember that in recent years, many of these peoples children were taken away. They were so fresh wood for a fire collected. A fire that burned many lives of those people. March The inclusion of these children by their parents, I remember people with fair skin, children at school only for the distance from the school forest. Iyou could not look to win, but that was enough. I could hear men say that some children were not. The men skinned shaved the heads of children and beat regularly. When he had finished years later, I was still there, but children were not. They were an empty shell, grew up in a world where no one accepts them. Even their mothers and fathers denied. In the end, did not need a lot of rope and trees by white men to remove their life,The lessons have been enough, and many died in the hands of recent years, content has been their end. Before I knew it, the vehicles moving bit 'strange people arrived on horseback from one place to another. Not long after, the execution of my fellow trees were distributed. Path from street, and a fog occasionally disgusted with poison rain that my leaves withered. We are choking trees with concern, fear for our lives. It was not long, housing and industry was widespread. Some trees, as weconsidered that these buildings and other contraptions made our brothers were gone, just destroyed, and can be compressed into something lighter skinned people as a useful, and was also for people of color.

In my last hundred rings have been overwhelmed with grief. It 'been a great war, more than any man in this period have ever experienced. leave many people in your neighborhood, and not because of so many. Behind me there is a cemetery where many mentransformed into what some call a box.

Not long after, another war started even worse than before. It was so terrible that the men were gone for so long and most women had to work. People put yellow ribbons around oak trees and my colleague brought down when the men returned. Fortunately, while the men were gone, revealed a woman can work and live, to survive, feeding the starving car. When the men returned home, a great feast was held, however, was not allgood.

Years later, the same dark-skinned people, have some victories, as well as other people of color. I could hear the new paved road yards from my roots. I heard a man down, that before a man named Mr. Brown went to court, the Ministry of Education, to fight for its colored daughters attend school in their own right to adequate space. Mr. Brown won and I heard the cries of many hill sides. Even more than a firestorm, contact a victory exuberating movement. It 'waslong, and many began to march on your way under my branches and scar, where a few years before hanging. They carry signs and chant the statements of unity and anger. It was a beautiful sound of hope in his voice. Above all, a man who had a dream. Someone killed that man, like many others before. His dream, however, does not die with him.

Also, I have seen so far. Each family or person who has moved into the forest to the neighborhood. I experienced theCircumstances of the separation of families, children in the growth and death and the creation of other families. It never ends, and with this endless cycle, I appreciate the cycle or not the love of other witnesses. Nature has been ignored. As time moves forward, it will be by me or others? Will those who are loved for so long have been prosecuted? Today I see so much despair, desperation time. If even the most vulnerable women, children and veterans, their wars areconsidered, and homeless! When life just for himself those that are condemned.

In the distance I heard my mother calling me for dinner. I jumped up, wiped her eyes and wiped my ass. "With oak, for your stories, I cried," I reached out and lifted the glans, the hours had landed on my head. I found a flat area in the vicinity of room to grow with. I planted the acorn in the dark earth, and when I registered I thought of the future, the centuries to come, and what I hadhours grew up listening to. What the acorn would tell me, can understand this time and the scenes as a big oak tree? Others even allow to grow, to stories that are told where to tell you? I'm not sure. However, I must act. I have my share in kind have the opportunity to live and a chance to say ... when listening to others. When I went to my porch and in my house I heard a thunderous noise. It was as if the sky has fallen, but it was something bigger. The large oak tree falltraffic stop near Highway never know in a traffic jam. It was as if the mighty oak had finally spoken. He had left the sign of the times, gave up, put his feelings to himself, like many others I know, he lives in a timeless existence, Which Might as she had experienced. The natural process when he spoke at the end, the great oak knew could not be restrained. It was so to say, stop the blind and I know that there is progress, that the past is and must be horrorconfessed in the end the misery of others and also to prevent them.
These are my last words.

With LJ Riley Jr.

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