The tree and the human

An unassuming tree stood, as it would every day. The insects climbing it scratched an itch here and there, the birds brought some fertilizer, and all was well. On a day like any other, the tree spotted a different kind of creature. It had colorful coverings around itself and walked on its two hind legs. Curious.

The tree had never seen this type of animal, and it had a cub. It was wrapped with different colors but moved just the same. The tree observed them forage and play. The noise spooked the birds and smaller animals, but the tree didn't mind; those would always come back. Some animals would pass by only every so often. It wondered if it would see these ones again.

The cub ran around the tree and tried to climb it with no success. It was also loud, more so than the sparrows it was most used to. The animal picked one of its fruits and gave it to the cub. The tree was glad one more of its seeds would go on a journey like many others.

For some time, the animal and cub returned often. The tree didn't bother figuring out for how long this went on as it wasn't in its nature to mind the business of animals. A few times, the animal would cut a branch. It was fortunate it would always be an old branch, cut at a good length to grow new sprouts. The tree enjoyed the luck of the animal.

The cub grew. The tree was sure it was the same one, unless there were more of them. The tree would not be able to tell the difference if there were more. With time, the cub would run less and less but always looked up for fruits even when it wasn't the right season. What a goofy.

One day the two animals appeared with a third, a new cub. And as its predecessor, the cub that was no longer a cub picked a fruit and offered it to the energetic new cub. The tree wondered if the other animal was the same old one as before or some other adult one. Surely those didn't last this long, or did they? The birds kept having new little chirpers on its branches, but their overall number never changed much, culled every so often to become nutrition for the tree. This animal took a bit longer to grow up, but even the tree itself had only grown a few meters in that short time.

The three animals soon showed up with a fourth, but it felt decayed compared to the others, slower. Could this be that first adult animal, it wondered. The fourth animal broke a thin branch the tree had growing near its base, on a great spot for new sprouts, it was definitely that one animal. The tree felt nostalgic even though the feeling of recognizing an individual animal was always novel due to the rarity of it.

The second cub grew, just like the first, and the first animal withered like a dry bush. It was the first time the tree had seen an animal live long enough to become like this.

One day a group of the animals approached the tree, all of them wrapped in dark colors. They carried a large rectangular piece of dry wood, bigger than an adult animal in all measures. One of them had the same shape as the second cub but was not as energetic, probably not the same.

One of the adult animals hugged the tree, as if trying to climb it with no success. It somewhat reminded the tree of the first cub. It took a fruit and fed the tree with only a few drops of salty water.

A couple of the animals dug a hole near the tree. The piece of wood was placed deep down and buried. The tree would eventually have the nutrients of that wood, but it was undoubtedly an odd way of nurturing it. These animals acted very differently from the other species of creatures around. Many times they would do things in the most inefficient of manners.

The animals marked the now closed hole with a piece of rock, also rectangular, and rested for a while before departing.

The tree did not feel the loss of the first animal, as it was not in its nature to attach itself to the passerby or to understand loss. The three animals continued to visit the tree until only two of them would come at a time. The two animals started to decay like the first animal. The third animal would occasionally come with them but not as often. Until a group of five came — two decayed, two adults, and a new cub.

The third cub was as energetic and loud as the previous ones, but this one seemed to enjoy more picking on the insects around the tree than climbing it. The tree had grown accustomed to having them run around at the start of every brief generation of the colorful animals. It was an interesting break from the usual peace.

One day while a strong storm was passing by, a lightning struck the tree, that by now was taller than its neighboring plants. The tree felt its bark burn and its leaves tear.

It felt no pain, not in the way animals do, but it sensed dread. Several of its beautiful branches fell, stems turning to cinder, the ember scorching the trunk inside and out. The rain alleviated the burning, but the damage was already deep, leaving the tree to its own slow healing. It would survive and held no grudge towards the weather, as any plant would.

Soon the animals arrived and circled the tree, maybe confused about its new appearance. It wondered if they would recognize it in this state or were as bad at recognizing individuals as the tree was. Perhaps they were pondering about the whereabouts of the old tree.

But instead of proceeding with their usual behavior, the animals started taking the broken branches away. Understandable, those were still full of nutrients. The third cub continued consistently energetic, though also taking sticks along with the adults. The animals came back with dirt full of nutrients and placed it at the base of the tree. It enjoyed its strength come back just so slightly along the next few hours, and more as the days and years passed.

Eventually, only one of the two decayed animals would come with the others, the one that would often look up for the next fruit since it was a cub, the first cub. Until it too eventually stopped coming.