i am a tree

The rain kept falling, washing the woods over and over again.

The leaves are verdant and compelling.

As the saying goes, water is the source of life, but if there is too much of this source of life, it will also cause headaches.

Next to the broken branch, I grew another leaf. These two leaves, which looked smaller than before, were washed up and down by the continuous rain, and they felt a little weak.

New life is always fragile.

The cubs of animals are taken care of by their parents or the same kind, while plants can only rely on their own tenacious vitality.

The small pothole where I took root was filled with rainwater, soaking the silt accumulated by the poor dust into a puddle of muddy water, and I was floating in this small puddle, with only a few roots remaining firmly. Stick firmly in the gaps provided by the big trees.

Too much water will reduce my exposure to air, which will affect the respiration of the roots. If this situation continues, I will probably become a tree that unfortunately dies due to suffocation.

This is so tragic.

The big tree noticed this situation, but it did not dare to use the gap to clean up the accumulated water too quickly, because it would make the little silt on which I depended for survival flow away, so the only way to drain the accumulated water is to use the method of thin water and long flow. Take it in little by little.

We worked so hard day and night, and finally achieved certain results.

At least I didn't get drowned.

Of course, the rain does not fall all the time, and it stops occasionally. I saw some small animals, such as sneaky, poking voles, and small muntjacs that barked like dogs passing by.

They jumped over the puddles lightly, carefully avoided the traps in the swamp, and left muddy footprints on the grass.

I even saw a litter of foxes. The mottled young female fox led three cubs and ran past under the big tree, looking forward and backward, as if there was some enemy chasing and killing them behind. After waiting for a long time, I didn't see any stalkers. I can only think that the natural prudence and cunning of foxes keep them vigilant at all times.

Far away, I also heard the roar of wolves and the howling of tigers, the terrifying breath of beasts.

Not far in front of the big tree, there is a very small pond, where small animals often drink water.

Clumps of daffodils grew along the edge of the pool, and their slender leaves formed reflections on the water.

Originally, flowers were blooming in twos and threes, but after being washed by the rain, many of them were inevitably ruined. Only some sporadic ones survived among the green branches and leaves, with white petals and yellow stamens, which are very beautiful.

They have survived the winter before they finally have a chance to bloom their own flowers.

Just because of this clump of daffodils, that humble little pond looks particularly beautiful, like an oil painting.

When I have nothing to do, I just stare at them, wanting to have a good look at them before the flowers fall.

After a long time, I discovered that this narcissus probably hated the continuous rain, and made all its beautiful flowers wither. It hid the remaining flowers under the leaves, and only a little came out from the cracks in the leaves. bright colors.

When the rain stops, those slender leaves will be retracted, and the flowers hidden underneath will stand there tremblingly, reflected in the pond, looking very cute in self-pity.

When the wind blows, the slender stems have a unique rhythm. Accompanied by the wind, it sways and dances.

Maybe because of me as an audience, it dances more deeply.

Even I couldn't help shaking the two poor leaves on my head with its movements.

Unexpectedly, even the big tree wanted to join in the fun. It shook its branches and leaves, and the accumulated water in the hole was splashed out a little, which made me root deeper immediately.

I feel like it's angry.

The rain stopped and the wind stopped, and the spring rain that lasted for a while finally temporarily scratched a full stop.

I breathed a sigh of relief, the sun shone, and soon, the water in the hole disappeared, part of it evaporated, part was absorbed by my roots, and of course, most of it still leaked into the cracks in the branches of the big tree.

I have grown a lot and have a few more leaves.

I'm growing very slowly, maybe it's the species, maybe it's not enough nutrients, or maybe it's just me being in this swamp.

But growing slowly is also good, at least in a short period of time, I don't have to worry about survival.

The parasite-like life will continue.

I tried to grow a root out of the pothole, thinking that maybe if I grow desperately, maybe after three to five years, or a shorter time, it will be able to touch the ground, so that I can absorb nutrients from the ground by myself Make food.

However, at present, I still want to integrate most of the roots with the big tree.

Under the big tree, there is a big stone.

It is covered with black and green plants commonly known as moss. Ordinary moss can only grow about one millimeter a year. Such a large piece of moss cannot grow without hundreds of years. It seems that this stone This place has been around for a long, long time.

Plants always make people feel that time passes silently like water.

What remains may be only a few centimeters thick moss.

There was a small opening under the stone, and in it was a colony of moles, and a paradise of all kinds of worms.

However, they were chased away by a brood of foxes one afternoon.

The variegated female fox ran under the tree, looked around, and for some reason, began to dig the gap under the rock with her paws.

The gap got bigger and bigger until finally a small hole was formed.

It went in and out, dirty and muddy, and seemed satisfied at last, and caught a mole, and took the mole as a trophy in its beak, and with great rapidity Speed ​​out of here.

At night, as night falls, the sounds of the forest only make it more peaceful.

The three little foxes followed the mother fox. The mother fox looked left and right, her eyes were shining in the darkness. She lowered her head and sniffed the ground for a while, and licked the little foxes for a while. Finally, a family of four came to the area. next to the stone.

The mother fox stuffed the little foxes in one by one, and then looked at it, and got in too.

The den under the rock became the new home for the brood of foxes.

The four foxes became my neighbors, and I stood on top of them, but they came in and out without paying any attention to me, only the big tree, which they really cared about.

The mother fox even scratched on the tree, and then retreated with her head down. The three little foxes poked their heads out of the cave, watching the scene curiously.

Their shining eyes are innocent and ignorant.

I'm always used to bringing the meanings I give to the actions of these animals and plants that can't speak, or it's just because they are rooted there and feel a little lonely.