The Wind and The Tree

They were not always friends, the wind and the tree.

Some dare to believe, they've always interacted seamlessly.

But these two forces, could not be more opposed.

One simply stays,

while the other one just...

...goes.

It's not that it disliked the tree, the wind simply had a hard time understanding. They were both young, small, and incapable of being anything other than what they were.

The young wind always seemed to ask the little tree to join on its journey, and the little tree, ever so politely, seemed to decline its excited invitation.

"So many places to go! So much to see!" Cried the wind.

And the little tree would smile, "There's no place better than where I am. You're going to have to trust me..."

And in a way, they were both correct, but expecting a goer to stay, is like expecting a stayer to go, and so, neither did gain what the other did know.

The young wind shrugged its shoulders and went on its merry way, sprinting and racing as fast as it might. It met puffy clouds and danced through the air. It found little raindrops and pushed them through space. They played and found joy until the water grew tired and settled. And with a tip of its hat, the wind thanked its new friend and carried once more, on its adventure.

The wind traveled quite a distance before making its way back to the tree. Though the tree was still small, its leaves were greener and much bigger now, and its stem looked significantly sturdier than before.

"I had a great time with water, we traveled all about... Are you ready to come with me? Or are you still filled with doubt?"

"There was never any doubt, I just know where I'm supposed to be...I've met water too, by the way. And it decided to stay put, just like me."

The wind called the tree cowardly, and the tree called the wind indecisive. The wind rolled its eyes and tried to give the tree a little push, the tree swayed back and forth, but did not move. The wind tried again, but the tree slowed the wind with its branches, urging it to stand still for a second and look around, but the wind shook loose feeling confined and frustrated, and sped away. Feeling angry and abandoned, the tree watched the wind leave.

It would be a long while before their paths crossed again. The wind grew older and fancied itself well-traveled and wise, and the tree grew stronger and thought itself most knowing and certain... And of course, neither thought the other capable of these qualities they admired, and so, neither one truly possessed either quality in turn.

Instead, they lived doing what they know and keeping as they were. The wind grew strong, bellowing, playing, dancing, and making giant crashing waves in the water. It traveled around the world, at frightening speeds glancing at all things wonderful. And the tree grew huge with thick roots and a brown-grey trunk. Its branches sprouted beautiful white flowers, with ruby red pistils in the center.

They were both powerful now, that was most certain. So powerful in fact that on a particularly hot day, moving at great speed, the wind met fire and had a great deal of fun. The wind sprinted and danced, and the fire spiraled and spun. They raced and bellowed and hollered playing fiercely with one another until the rain came and fire subsided. When the wind looked upon the beautiful landscape it so loved to explore and cherish, and found it blackened and charred, it knew a reckless heavy-handedness it had not known before. The wind understood it might never see this landscape again and felt a sinking remorse grow inside. Slowly, and with measured restraint, the wind traveled far far away from its mistakes. Sullen and distraught it rolled along seeking an unfamiliar place, until it stumbled upon the tree.

The tree had a bit of a quandary now. It had luscious pears hanging off its branches, and beautiful white flowers brimming all about, but it had no way of moving them very far. It had incredible gifts to share, so much joy and loveliness to disperse, and yet no way to properly spread the fruits of its labor. Half-open rotting pears sat at the tree's feet with seeds squished along the ground, and it looked every bit the part of a disgusting mess. Gross.

The tree was pondering this conundrum when the sullen wind stumbled upon it. The tree was tempted to taunt the wind for its haggard, slow appearance, hoping for some sort of vindication, but all it could muster was pitty...

...though that had never been their relationship.

"Oy! Wind! Come smell my flowers."

"You're just going to try and grab me, Tree."

"Can't slow you any more than you're going, Wind. Come take a whiff."

The wind approached and immediately smelled rotting fish from the flowers that often come from Pear trees. And though it knew this to be a joke, the wind was in no mood to fight. "They smell lovely."

This was no fun for the Tree, who was surprised, but understood deeply what was needed and how to foster things. It sighed and attempted to console the Wind.

"Wind, I'm a bit stiff here, would you kindly ruffle my leaves about a little? Maybe see if you can move some flowers and Pears for me. I've tried explaining the way of trees, but they seem to have a bit of an adventurous spirit to them right now... They're young."

The wind smiled and obliged. It ruffled through the branches and the leaves, feeling the bristles all over. It smiled and danced, lingering among the flowers, absorbing their beauty, and caressing the pears. And though it was surrounded on all sides, slow to move amongst all the branches, it felt to the wind like an embrace. It understood for a moment, the tree, hugged by the earth around its roots. It understood as it lingered slowly the beauty of this place, and why it could not be let go. It was as beautiful as any place the wind had ever seen... Except one.

"Tree, may I take your flowers and show them a new place?" The wind asked.

And the tree agreed. It needed the wind too.

The wind traveled with the flowers and seeds, not too fast now, relishing them in its arms, and took them to the blackened charry terrain it had once left. It buried them in the dirt, and hung around, but could not stay...

Staying is, after all, for the trees...

And the wind carried on, for it would cease to be as it is if it stayed, and the tree could not be as it is if it moved. And asking them to do anything otherwise would be misunderstanding the fundamental nature of who they are.

And though it took mistakes and mess, fire and fury, time and patience... The tree and the wind learned to understand their opposites.

And in their old age, they became great friends.