How It Leaves You

It really is a wonderful treat living high up amongst the trees. A natural accident allowing for me to be where I am today. How did I become so lucky to feel what I feel and see what I see? Nevertheless, I wish this story was solely about myself, however I have come to realise in my last few moments that there is more to the birds I hear sing in harmony every morning, the humans I see in the parks and the weather we all storm to survive.

My name is Ciflua. I live with thousands of friends who share some of the same views I do. Of course, we all see and interpret things differently. Same tree, different perspectives which means there’s never a dull moment for this bunch. We lead an exciting life of constantly trying to figure out everything going on around us. What are those humans DOING? That caterpillar is munching on my friend! All the while we admire the birds singing and dancing with each other, trying to impress the onlookers, which is always a beautiful sight. This time, for me, it was when I saw two fairly young humans set up under our tree yesterday morning. I have seen plenty of humans, but this was different.

These two had something about them as if the world around them didn’t exist whilst wrapped in each other as if they were one, surrounded by fallen friends of mine. Friends who had had enough of being up high and wanted to see a different point of view. I could never understand why they left so abruptly when we have it so peaceful and perfect up here. Sure, there has been some rain, wind, and lightning but that’s all part of the fun. The feeling of raindrops on my skin is something I will never get tired of.

The sun was setting with glorious explosions of orange, pink and purple. Infact, every evening ends with a unique, personal and spectacular art exhibition, yet in that joyous moment for me, I couldn’t help but feel their energy. It was heavy. It was infectious and it looked serious. Clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it, I could feel that something was about to change.

Still embraced, this man swooped into his trouser pocket and pulled out a little black box. The woman who was un-phased by this box looked him deeply in his eyes and embraced him with a long, soft kiss. The box dropped from his steady hand and rolled to their intertwined feet. With my already blush colour, I fluttered away with the light breeze to look at the stars starting to appear, one by one, along with the moon that came out to lull the world to sleep. Perhaps not those below, whose evening was slowly starting to begin.

I normally awake before dawn with the help of a crisp breeze, the startling howl of the local dogs barking at a passing possum or the loud wakeup call from Mr rooster down the road. I get my bearings, look around and remember where I am and the life I am living. Wonderful. Something out of the ordinary catches my attention. A little black book. Right where that young couple were owning the night. It just laid there, nestled on top of the fallen. Was it important? Was it something they needed for their future? It seemed well used with curled pages and wrinkles on the cover. No prints. Nothing on the outside, though I imagine the inside told a world of stories.

I’m obsessed. I cannot stop watching. Not one person has glanced down passed their phones, their coffees or the conversations they’re carrying with others. This little black book is so insignificant to everyone. Why? Isn’t anyone as curious as I am? The wind swirled a little, but nothing has disturbed this small yet so obvious book.

As the day progresses, I feel so out of control. I’m losing grip of my home, and I cannot seem to hold on any longer. Maybe it’s going to be okay, and maybe we are ALL meant to end up on the ground where the humans linger. What’s the worst that can happen?

Just like that, the most natural thing happened. I allow myself to let go and float down. So graceful. The view on the way down is spectacular. I land with an ever so soft placement on the green grass below. Home.

I drift in and out of sleep, but am finally awoken midafternoon from the sound of two truck doors closing very close by. I hear light crunches followed by a teenagers’ curious “Huh? What’s this?”.

“Hey Dad!” She yells out. I hear heavier crunches coming closer to me.

“Well, go on, read it out, dear”.

“’To whoever finds this little black book. Please find inside details to our small $20,000 savings account, along with the story of us. It’s yours now. We cannot take this to where we are going, and we have lived a life of wealth and love, and we only want the same for you. Thank you.”

“Throw it in the truck, we will investigate it’s worth when we get home to your mother.” I hear him say with such a doubtful tone.

With that, I hear a shout and an engine start with the sound of an all too familiar wood-chipper. It’s a rush, a mess and a whirlwind. I don’t exactly know where I am after the fall, but I do know my life is about to end. I’ve seen it all before. How could I be so naïve? I will say this now, as my life is to be swept up and shredded, I was blessed to witness one human's despair be the next persons saving grace. I can see, right before my demise, that that girl and her family's life was going to change forever.

What a life I’ve been able to live.