The Tree

The wind whistled, sending icy knife-like gusts through her branches. The old honeysuckle tree shuddered, clinging to her leaves like the tatters of a cloak. Her thin twigs reach out, trying to grab at a few withered and brown tatters as they get ripped from her. She lets out a hiss as she shivers. The nest she lovingly cradled, keeping safe during the summer now was forgotten as she let it slip to the ground. The cold was breaking her apart. Winter was just starting and she felt it already lingered on too long.

It felt like a lifetime ago that she bore creamy perfumed blossoms in her bright emerald hair. Felt like centuries since birds sang with her and bees wrote odes to her beauty. She knew she was in trouble when autumn came and a sharp blade snipped and cut at her branches, she knew without them, the winter would be colder. She fought and resisted, hoping the woman that was brutalizing her would tire and stop tormenting her so. Silently, she screamed but the woman couldn’t hear.

She stood, staring down at her branches, her remaining ones shorter, clipped high. She wasn’t bald but she felt naked all the same. She could hear the others in the distance, crying out as another gust ravaged them and she steeled herself. Please…. she thought…. please let this cold snap end. A white flake brushed past, feeling like a razor blade against her face. Her eyes close tight, she just had to endure. The onset of snow would draw some of the chill from the air. Something caught her attention.

A slight weight made her branch dip down and a pair of little talons dug into her bark, she saw a trembling bird, it was so cold and puffed up that there was no way it would have been able to fly. She had so few leaves and they were no longer lush but she drew them as close as she could. A snow storm was coming and the little creature needed shelter.

The snow begun to fall faster, fat flakes soon replaced the blade like shards. A coat of white soon formed along her arms and body, creating a barrier against the wind. The snow was cold but it felt warmer to her, it must have felt warmer to the bird as well because it shivered a little less. Hours passed, the honeysuckle and the small bird. If she could have talked, she would have spoke with her tiny companion and asked so many questions but birds and trees speak different languages.

Morning came, she must have fallen asleep because whens he woke, there were a few little birds huddled together, chirping softly and gossiping in whispery notes. She smiled inwardly, such a happy sound. She understood their chirps, they were talking about the snow, about the wind that caused them to get scattered. This was a family, not unlike the one she watched grow during the warmer months. Now that the sun was out, she was cheered by their colors, red birds… meaning they were cardinals. To her, even the dusky muted colors of the lady birds was beautiful.

The proud male chipped loudly, Where will we find food? I am not familiar with this area. The others fussed, he was the elder of the group so if he didn’t know, it was worrisome. Honeysuckle thought and spied a ruby red berry at the tip of her branches, she forgot about those. She did her best, giving her branch a shake, trying to get their attention. The young one she protected saw the berry and skipped along the branch, stretching and grabbing the prize. The others started singing loudly, a joyous praising of the shivering tree. They feasted, inviting other birds to partake. It was too cold to be too greedy right now. The honeysuckle sighed gently, it felt good to be needed.

She stiffened, hearing the door of the house open. She feared the woman would return to maim her more. She wanted to flee but she couldn’t, her roots wouldn’t budge from the ground. Wincing, she slammed her eyes shut. Gentle hands caressed her trunk and gently gripped a branch, the touch tickled. Then it moved to another. When it stopped and the door of the house banged shut again, she looked. From her branched dangled seed and suet feeders and bits of string and fabric…. and that nest she nurtured was back in it’s proper place. She looked at the house and smiled to herself. Just a couple more months and the emerald leaves would be back but until then, she will wear her ruby gems to feed the hungry and stand strong for the weak. Spring was only a couple of months away.