The Perfect Tree

For Lindsey,
Hopefully, this tale, while abstract, will help you understand. You captivate me for many reasons I am unable to express. And, no, I’m not looking for you to provide me shade.

Once upon a time there was a boy who went into the forest in search of the perfect tree. He stopped at many trees as he traveled through the forest. Some trees were too big. Some trees didn’t provide enough shade. Some trees were the homes for beasts and bugs. The boy did not enjoy being clawed at and bitten so he tried to avoid these trees. The boy learned to stay away from pine trees because the sap was so sticky and dry pine needles would make him itch when they fell down his shirt.

One day, while walking through the forest, the boy heard beautiful singing. The boy, seeking companionship after many days alone, decided to locate the singing woman. Upon following the voice, the boy came upon a glen with one lone sapling in the center. As the boy walked into the glen, the voice became much more audible. He searched about the glen but found no one.

Finally, the voice exclaimed, “Confound it boy! Please cease your pacing, it’s making me nervous.”

The startled boy stammered, “S-sorry. Umm. Where are you?”

The voice spoke back, “I sit here in the middle of the glen. You’ve walked past me three or four times already. Why do you bother with such silly questions?”

This quite confused the boy. He had searched the glen. There was no woman here. The boy then stretched out his hands and began feeling through the air. “I – don’t – see – you. You’re – not – a – w-witch, are you?”

The voice made a lilting laugh. “I am no witch, little one. I am the young sapling that basks in the sun before you.”

The boy, a bit confounded by this realization, stumbled backwards and fell on his rump. Then on hands and knees he slowly crawled towards the sapling. As he slowly reached out towards the sapling to touch it, the sapling yelled, “Boo!” and the boy jumped back in alarm. The sapling giggled mischievously.

The boy grinned stupidly at the joke made on his behalf. And, unsure how to proceed on this uncertain ground, he asked, “Sapling, may I sit under your shade?”

The boy could’ve kicked himself for asking such a stupid question. But, the sapling was pleasantly surprised. “Oh, yes. I’d like that. I’ve never been asked that you know?” The sapling then asked, “So, what brings you so deep into the forest?”

The boy told the sapling of his quest to find the perfect tree. He explained how all the trees he’s come across were not what he was looking for. He told the sapling how he had thought about abandoning the search for the perfect tree or perhaps settling for a good tree. Towards the end of his story it began to rain and the sapling spread it’s branches to try to keep the boy dry. The boy continued with his story. He finished by telling the sapling how he had found the perfect tree – the sapling.

“But I will not always be the same,” said the sapling, “I too will grow into a big tree.”

“I will grow with you,” the boy replied.

“Not all days will be good. Some days I will have bugs or critters that will chase you away,” said the sapling.

“Spending the day under your branches is more than worth an occasional bite or scratch,” the boy replied.

“On occasion, I too will be sappy,” said the sapling.

“Sap may be sticky, but it washes off. You need not fear,” said the boy.

“But, I am not perfect,” said the sapling. “Other trees provide better shade. Other trees sprout beautiful flowers. Other trees will make much better companions to climb.”

“I care not what these other trees offer. You are what I had hoped for in a tree, though I thought a tree like you was only a fairy tale,” said the boy.

“What makes me different than the other trees?” asked the sapling.

“It is your beautiful voice,” said the boy. “Your voice brings me joy. Your voice makes me want to sing. And, if I cannot take you home, I will spend forever in the forest.”

“And, what if I lose my voice?” prodded the sapling.

“Your voice is not simply the noise you make. It is the way you offer me your shade. It is the way you keep me out of the rain. Such things make you the perfect tree.”

As the tree was about to consent to going with the boy, a hundred-foot tall hill giant walked into, or should I say on, the glen and squished both the boy and the tree into a mess of sticky goo and twigs. (C’mon, it’s best to end this way. This story was on the verge of botaniphilia, and no one wants to read about that.)