by Paige Pfannenstiel

Created on: May 02, 2008

The Life of a Tree
Autobiography of an Oak

I started as a seed

When I was still an acorn hanging from my mother's branches, when there were only a few trees at the back of the house, when the new people hadn't come to the house, when the little girl hadn't picked out me as her important project tree, when there wasn't a forest, and there were no pine trees yet, just oaks, when the other trees hadn't gotten jealous of me, and when my mother was still a young tree. This is how it all started

My mother said one day, when the winter was near, we would leave her branches and would find a place to spread our roots, and to grow into magnificent trees like her. We are the oaks of the earth, and if we lived until summer, the time when the leaves of all the trees turned a lovely dark green, and when warmth would seep into our limbs, we would live hundreds of years to see every season, to feel every weather, and to know every animal. I couldn't wait until "dropping day," as we called the time when all the trees dropped their seeds to start a new life. I was getting sick of all my brothers and sisters, who were getting big and restless. All except one of my sisters who was always kind to me. I think she was getting to be sick of the hustle-and-bustle as well. I also knew she wanted to be with me. I hoped with all my might that I would grow near her. I was also hoping that sometime we would make a forest. A few seeds from last season were carried here by birds, winds, storms, and who knows what else, and they were the start of a new generation of forest. My mother was one of them. My mother told me about the endless green that was a forest. Even though I had not seen the color green yet, the very thought of it made me tingle. The next day was dropping day. My mother told us to get some rest, and we would have a long journey in the morning. I was restless, but I knew she was right. I felt calmed by the whisper of the other trees as they said,
Tomorrow is dropping day, will there be a new forest? Will the seeds survive? How will my seeds grow? Where will they grow? Will they survive?

The next day, I awoke by the sound of soft bumps. Almost like rain. Was it raining? No! It was dropping day. It was a sunny day. My mother said she had never seen a better day for seedlings. She started the process of instructing us how to let go and fall. Soon, acorns were raining down from the tree, one branch at a time. My sister's and my branch was next. Our other three brothers had already been

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