The yew

What if the only thing that understood you was an inanimate object? Friendship with nature is joyous and rewarding, never forget...

The yew tree stood in its full glory in a park adored by the inhabitants of the little town of Greenslade, just a couple miles away from the bustling city of London. This tree had seen many friendships bloom under it, had witnessed countless tales of romance and also stood a spectator to the tears of young hearts being wrenched and ripped apart. Children played gleefully under it and the old sat soaking in the wonderful sense of comfort they felt under its huge canopy.  Under this tree, the ghosts of innumerable feelings lingered, ready to provide the individual whatever emotion his heart desired for.

            The sunlight peeped through the lull between its green, lively leaves and scattered little droplets of gold on the green ground. The grass seemed to kiss its trunk with every gentle push of the frolicking wind. Throughout the day, the yew was a magnificent sight to behold; the sun crowned it at dawn and softly kissed it goodbye at dusk. The pale moon cast an enigmatic appearance upon it that made the sight inviting and lethal simultaneously.

            Little Cedric, one of the countless young lads to visit the yew on a daily basis, had formed a camaraderie with this tree the instant he set his startlingly pale blue irises on it. His young, inexperienced mind couldn’t fathom the sense of security he felt as he gamboled around, laughed, tripped and cried under the yew. His heart carried in it many fond memories of this tree.

            As he grew older, his innocence grew tired of him and left him to the clutches of maturity. His mind wove a dark web within itself where every thought was screened and then permitted to be acted upon. He had trained his heart to accept hopelessness and happiness was housed in the farthest corners of that web. He was not a vindictive or a naturally morose boy, no, but his fragile heart scared him out of his wits. Being vulnerable to feelings and having them crushed would have broken his heart in two like a twig under the trampling feet of a hungry creature.

            But the only times when his emotions surfaced were under that yew. Somehow, just standing in its shade had a calming effect on his ever-restless heart and over-thinking brain. He talked freely with the old people under that tree and listened to their complaints about the younger generation. He played with the children and taught them new games. He conversed with his peers and exchanged numerous stories about school and other things. But as soon as his feet carried him out of the shadow of the yew, his feelings recoiled within his heart.   

            Then one day, his parents, in an effort to cheer his sulking self, proposed a trip to Dublin. He agreed indifferently and throughout the stay there, his only thought was to go back to his beloved yew. He missed it and the emotions it unfurled in him. His parents accepted his state of mind with resigned smiles and decided not to push him to do things. Cedric was not the kind of boy who would share his feelings easily but he did form friends easily. His friendship with the yew was something that was understood by few and bewildered almost everyone. Having such an intense bond with an object is a luxury not afforded by many. A luxury it is, because people change and so do their feelings for you. But if you connect with an inanimate entity, the chances of you getting hurt are infinitely less.

Some may consider it a resort of the weak-hearted, and they won’t be wrong. People like Cedric, who find it hard to accept their feelings even to themselves, turn to natural things to find solace. Things they have an emotional attachment with, trees, plants, etc., save them from the dark swirls of their mind. It is not something to scoff at but to understand and accept.

            His stay in Dublin was uneventful and as soon as their car touched the ground of Greenslade, his eyes pleaded his father to take him to the yew. When he eagerly turned his eyes to look at the familiar green crown, all they saw was the blue sky. His lips parted in horror and his brain went numb. There, near the cut stump of the previously magnificent trunk, was a board which read:

“This park is now the property of Parkinson & Davies Construction firm.”

             

           

Author's Note

I personally relate a lot to Cedric... What do you think?