Once, I was sitting on a bench near nowhere. I heard a voice say,
"Hey, would you mind giving me that paper?"
I looked behind me, but there was no one there. However, I could see a piece of paper on the ground. Confused, I picked it up, holding it in my hand while waiting for the voice to speak again.

The voice spoke again, "Hmm, don't read it. It's from my childhood diary."
I looked puzzled and scanned the entire field, but I still saw no one. The voice spoke once more, "It's me, the tree in whose shadow you are sitting."

I said, "Am I hallucinating, or are you really talking to me?"
The tree replied, "Don't freak out. All I want is that paper. Give it to me, and I won't startle you again if you don't want me to."

I looked at the paper and then handed it to the tree. It said, "Thanks." I said, What was in that paper that was so important? The tree responded, "I wrote that when I was a young lad. Here you go, read it if you want to."

It goes like this:

The silent forest on a winter night is chilly, but not uncomfortably so. The air is crisp and fresh, and you can see your breath in the cold. The entire place is enveloped in soft, thick fog, giving everything a dreamy and magical appearance. Despite the silence, a gentle breeze whispers, creating a melody in your ears. The stars shine brightly, their warm light peeking through the fog and casting tiny droplets to the ground, creating a calming sound. Joyful crickets add to the enchantment, their melody filling the air. The fragrance from the flowers and the damp earth dances around, taking your breath away. Wise trees stand tall, their branches reaching for the skies, witnessing every moment through generations.

I said, "It sounds like fiction to me, but I must admit, I'm really impressed." Then he asked, "Well, tell me about your experience. How has your life been?" I replied, "It goes like this:"


The silent city, on a winter night, is chilly, yes, uncomfortably so. The air feels fresh, but you can see your breath blend with the smoke of a cigar. The entire city is veiled in thick smoke, giving everything a damp and tragic aura. Despite the silence, cars honk at midnight, creating a chaotic symphony. Tall lights pierce through the smoke, casting warm glows. Water from automated sprinklers spills onto the trees and grass, creating a gentle patter. The asphalt screeches with joy under the weight of passing tires. The perfume of pesticides lingers, taking your breath away. Wise men turn into statues, their attempts to touch the skies frozen, as they experience every moment through generations.

Tree said, "It smells fiction to me, but I must admit, I'm really impressed".

© davence_hackwell

#nature #Love&love #WritcoQuote #writer