Silver Lady

I got up this morning feeling chilly. Where is my friend Summer? You were here three days ago. Are you going to let Fall shove you out and Old Man Winter take control?

Then I went to my car to go to work and could not believe my eyes. Leaves from my Silver Poplar lay at her feet…at my feet. My heart fluttered, skipped a beat or two. What was happening? My eyes looked up at the large trunk of my Silver Lady and saw her leafy but thinning canopy.

(This is how our conversation went.)

"When did this happen?" I cried out, “You have let go of your leaves behind my back. I think that is just bad manners.”

“It’s time for me drop my leaves.” Silver Lady said, “It’s unhealthy to hang onto … you know dead things.”

“But why now with everything that is going on in the world, why now?” I asked, “Must you be like every other tree in this world? What if every tree decided to drop their leaves just because its time. What good would that do?”

“They will you know, in their own time.” She said, “Would you prefer me to lick and stick them back on with my own sap, the blood of my veins?”

“Yes,” I said quietly, but selfishly. “The bottom line is, you have been sneaking around behind my back, making decisions that also affect me greatly, with-out-my-knowl-edge.” I looked up at her barren arms stretched out in the morning sun. “You have bird nests in the crook of your limbs, I’ve never seen that before.”

“That is a bother- the birds.” Her bark glittered in its silvery glow. “You do know I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want this to happen.” I pouted. “Sure I have been too busy to notice your leaves falling. Yesterday, I did notice something on the way home...one tree...only one...with leaves threatening...but only threatening to change to golden hues and crimson colors. At first, I put it out of my mind I didn’t want to think about it. Then I thought to myself, my good trees are waiting, not hurrying it along. They know how I feel about summer, about winter. They won’t let me down.” Then I looked straight into her bark-n-limbs and boldly said, “It’s just plain rude to flutter your leaves to the ground without my knowledge or my permission. Look at everything I have done for you all these years.”

Silver Lady's limbs waved ever so slightly to release a bit more of her burden. “Sometimes, Journaling Woman, you try even the patience of a tree.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You have to let go, just like I am letting go.” Then Silver Lady sighed. “Okay... may I please be excused for the summer?”

I smiled at my friend the Silver Poplar tree. “That’s all I ask, that I be considered and consulted. Yes, but hurry back soon. I’ll be waiting.”

The Silver Lady in Summer, Center Stage