"The View Beyond The Balcony" by Randy Weeks
Last week I decided to take a stroll through The Grove. I found refuge from the heat in the shade of all the beautiful leaves on the trees. I found an especially inviting tree trunk, so I sat down and leaned on it. I was on the verge of sleep when I felt a gentle nudge on my back. I ignored it, only to receive a stronger nudge. I looked around to see who might be poking me, but there was no one there. All of a sudden a root of the tree lifted itself from the earth. It gave me a shove that sent me sprawling. Then I heard a gruff voice (think the talking trees from The Wizard of Oz) say, “Get off me, cowboy!”
Still on my back, wondering if this was a nightmare. I knew I wasn’t drunk. I decided to do the unthinkable—I talked back,
“You’re a tree—and a talking one at that!”
No shite, Sherlock!
“You don’t have to be a smart-ash about it!”
Good god. I’m a grand oak, not an ash! So you can kiss my non-ash ash!
“Okay. I apologize. We got off on the wrong root.”
It’s okay. I won’t bark at you, you sap!
“Speaking of bark, it looks like you’re missing some. A few limbs, too.”
Blame Fern. She really did a number on us.
“Yeah. That’s for sure. Do you think y’all are ready for the first home game?”
Are we ready? Hell yeah! Damn right! Hotty Tot…
“Alright, alright, alright. Enough of that! Are you really ready?
Of course! We’re always ready. Once people put their tents up they’re gonna start drinking—if they haven’t already. After a few Bud Lights they won’t even notice we’re damaged goods. And if some fans forget to use their red and blue solo cups security will pour their beer out. Once it soaks in we’ll be sauced, too.
Can’t wait to get my buzz on! And when the band plays, we’ll start (singing) slow dancin’, swayin’ to the music. We’ll make a breeze and everybody’ll be happy!
“Are y’all worried about anything?”
ICE.
“Ice? It’s September. The only ice in The Grove will be ice to keep the food and drinks cold.”
Not that kind of ice. The capital I capital C capital E kind of ICE!
“You gotta be kiddin’ me!”
I kid you not. After the cherry trees in D.C. got slaughtered, none of us are safe!
“But no trees have been arrested.”
Not yet.
“But y’all are American, born and bred.”
It don’t seem to matter. Hell, they might dig us up and send us to Argentina! They might turn us into lumber and ship us up above the Mason Dixon Line. We’re Rebels, not Yankees!
“What about your I.D.s?”
I’m sure the University has those records, but that don’t seem to matter either. It didn’t matter with the cherry trees, so why would it matter with us?
“Point well taken. Is there anything y’all do to try to stop this?”
Kinda sorta. We do have ways to irritate people. Sometimes, especially when rain has turned The Grove into a super-sized slip ‘n slide, we’ll lift a root just enough for people to trip over it and fall flat-faced in the mud! Revenge is sweet!
“Is there anything you want people to know about this? I do have a venue to pass information along.”
Yeah. We’re on the verge of PTFD.
“PTFD?”
Yeah. Pre-Traumatic Felling Disorder. It’s a reaction to the bulldozing of the cherry trees in D.C. We can’t hold our sap. We may look fine on the outside, but underneath this bark we’re sappin’ all over ourselves. (sighs) Just tell folks that trees have feelings, too. It’s a proven fact that we communicate with each other. When one of us hurts, we all hurt. Practice kindness toward us and we’ll practice kindness toward you.
Now, why don’t you make like a tree and leaf, Hootie Tootie? (laughs)
So I did.
…and that’s the View from Beyond The Balcony.
Randy Weeks is a Licensed Professional Counselor, Board Certified Telemental Health Provider, a Certified Shamanic Life Coach, an ordained minister, singer-songwriter, actor, and writer, and, yes, he is a tree-hugger.
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