The being sitting on the harpsichord beside me agreed with me. He smoked his sweet herbs in his funny pipe, made of something I couldn't identify. The color was yellow, it was slender and long. The little being was puffing with pleasure that tiny pipe, tiny for me, at least, because for him it was the perfect size.
He would tell me, with his small mouth, quite interesting stories about the trees. About how they were lovely beings of great wisdom. Most of them were like great mothers or maybe grandmothers. Quite welcoming, embracing the world with its roots. I was surprised and delighted to learn that every tree's dream is to be hugged. I hugged one of them that same day. Trees are more alive than we think. They feel, love, talk and know everything that goes on around them. They can communicate at a distance, as they connect to each other through the great mother earth, communicating over great distances and knowing what is happening all over the world or in a good part of it. In the world of trees, fruit trees are the ones that suffer the most, as they often have their branches pruned, and this hurts them. Even so, they understand that it is necessary, because for these trees the greatest pleasure is to feed the beings of the earth, especially us. Others that suffer are the trees in the city. They suffer for generally being alone and surrounded by concrete, they suffer for the pruning and mainly for what they hear. Yes, trees hear and are very sad about certain things they hear from the people around them. They know many secrets and often get sick.
The being reminded me of the mulberry tree that had dried up in the nearby park, explained to me that he had heard very sad things from men who frequented the place at night and that, therefore, he fell ill, giving up on people. But last autumn it decided to give a few fruits, all at the top of its branches, far from the reach of men, but within reach of the birds.
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He continued to speak for a long time. When he stopped, the rain was all over the earth and the sun had already set, leaving a faint light behind. I yawned after the little being took a silent pause. He looked at me holding the pipe in front of his mouth, smiled at me, didn't show his teeth, but closed his eyes as he did so, which made his face quite affectionate. “It's time for me to go,” he said, “I've had enough rest. My shift starts again in the next minute.” My response was a slight expression of disappointment, like when you eat the last slice of pizza and you're still hungry. He smiled again and said:
“Soon we will see each other again, after all there is green sprouting from every crack”.
