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My response today to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day for May

by John Yeo

The Murgal Tree quietly moved in the wafts of the imaginary breezes in Teresa’s mind. He had been rehearsing an important piece of information in the depths of his voluminous trunk.
‘I know I’m unique, talking trees are not accepted by the rootless ones. Teresa’s parents must learn to accept our existence or we are nothing.’

Teresa broke into his thought stream. ‘How can we go about that? No one will ever believe us.’

The tree’s branches trembled visibly as he replied. ‘I have no idea, Tess. Perhaps if we can find another sensitive mind, we will be able to convince them.’

Teresa smiled and suddenly thought, ‘What about my Uncle Peter? I swear he is the same, he has been in and out of hospitals because he hears strange words.’

‘We must try Tess! Bring him tomorrow and we will let him in on our secret. We must do something or I will disappear.’

‘Are you sure Murgy? What if he doesn’t understand?’

‘We must give it a try Tess bring him tomorrow.’

That evening Tess and her Uncle were walking in the large gardens at the back of their house.

  ‘Uncle, do you believe trees could ever talk?’

‘Anything is possible Tess, Why do you ask?’

   ‘Will you come to meet someone with me tomorrow please Uncle?’

‘Of course Tess! Who will we be meeting?’

  ‘It’s a surprise Uncle!’

  The next day, a brilliant Sun was shining from a blue sky. Birds were singing and flying to and fro in the woods as Teresa led her Uncle Peter to the lake where the Murgal tree was located.
Teresa stopped under the tree and thought loudly,

‘Hello, Murgy!’

‘Hello Tess!’ replied the tree using the power of thought.
Uncle Peter looked startled but he never said a word.

‘ Did you hear that Uncle Peter?’

‘No Tess! What do you mean? Did I hear what?’

  Teresa looked sad and disappointed.

‘What can you hear Tess?’ Asked her Uncle. ‘Please don’t say you hear voices. They will never understand. I know.’

‘OK Uncle Peter, I think we should go home now.’

A few days later Tess arrived home,
broken-hearted, in tears.
‘Someone has cut down and killed the Murgal tree,’ she wailed.

Uncle Peter looked away and looked unhappy, he said. ‘Perhaps it’s for the best Tess? Talking trees can get people into a lot of trouble. No one seems to take it seriously, I know!
It might have been cut down in that fierce storm yesterday.’

Tess never recovered from her sadness and she became known as the lady of the woods. Ever hunting and haunting the glades searching for another friend to replace the Murgal tree.
©️ John Yeo

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