There’s a group of trees by a river. Tall, proud. Firm in their roots, stout in their trunks. The green needles never lose their color. In sweltering heat or raging blizzards, the needles may fall but their color shines bright through it all.
On the opposite bank stands a solitary tree. It soaks up the sun without obstruction, stands taller than the others, feeds from the rich soil beneath it. It’s strong, thick. It knows how to survive.
While the others depend on each other for growth and safety, the solitary tree is forced to rely on itself. It braces itself for the storms, the blizzards; battles the rivers rising tide on its own.
All it needs is the occasional visit from a bird among its branches, or a bear seeking a break from the sun on a Summer’s day.
It’s content away from the group.
It’s happy on its own.
A Toast: To the Solitary Tree