Fox and Tree

Fox, who had been friends with Tree for a long time, paused at Tree’s trunk while returning from a successful evening hunt. It was morning and the sun cast beams of light, highlighting the brave, early buds erupting from the newly thawed soil. Tree did not turn to greet her as she passed, which had been their custom since she was just a playful kit.

“Tree,” said Fox, “Are you okay? The winter thaw has come and the flowers are pushing through the ground. It is Spring!”

Tree sat for a long while and only looked at Fox.

Fox looked closer at Tree and noticed his branches were thin and bare, some of them having broken over the course of the winter.

“Tree,” said Fox urgently, “where are your buds? Your bark is peeling. You do not look like yourself, not even a little. Are you sick?”

Tree looked at Fox and responded slowly and rhythmically, “I am very tired, Fox.”

“But Tree! It is Spring! Your favorite season! Shall I ask the young squirrels to pay you a visit? Surely that would bring you some cheer!”

Tree smiled as sunlight highlighted his trunk, “I am so glad it is Spring. But I am very weary, Fox. I am glad you are here so we can have this morning together.”

“But we will have every morning together!,” said Fox defiantly.

Tree smiled sadly at Fox. 

“Tree,” said Fox with alarm in his voice, “I will see you tomorrow when I return from my hunt.”

Tree did not respond, but pulled Fox into an embrace with his lowest branches.

“Oh Fox,” said Tree, “I will miss you very much.”

Tears streamed down Fox’s cheeks and clung to his whiskers before falling to the ground. “But Tree!” shouted Fox,” You will miss the wind blowing through your branches and greeting the new saplings. You will miss the fall celebration and the gathering for winter solstice! You will miss the twinkling of the stars and the songs of the pines!”

“I know, Fox. But I am very, very tired,” responded Tree.

“You will miss the squirrel babies as they steal seeds from the children. You will miss the kiss of sunshine on your branches! You will miss the morning dew and the first snow and the look in the air just before dusk. You will miss it all!”

“I know, Fox. But I am very, very tired.”

“But Tree,” said Fox, eyes downcast and tears falling rapidly, “I will miss you.”

Tree pulled Fox even closer, holding him with all the strength the old Oak could muster. 

“I will miss you, Fox. I will miss you most of all. But I will be there when the first snow falls and in the meadow as the sun drops behind the mountains. I’ll be the wind that carries you swiftly through the night. You will feel me in the silent hours before dawn, when the world is still and darkness is king. And when you pass by this hill where we have shared so much, you will hear the echo of our laughter and remember all the ways we were together. I will miss you very, very much, Fox.”

Silence fell in the woods as Fox curled up in a tight ball in the hollow between his friend's giant roots.

“I will miss you very much too, Tree,” whispered Fox, tears falling gently from his eyes until his lids grew so heavy he could no longer keep them open. Tree watched Fox and his meadow and the clouds floating gracefully above for a few minutes, the rhythmic in and out of his friend's slumber a comforting hymn, until he peacefully and quietly closed his own.