i am a tree

The trees stretch their branches and leaves freely in the warm air.

They get their energy from sunlight and transport water and small amounts of minerals from their roots to their leaves.

There, food for the trees will be produced.

Most plants are light-loving.

When their seeds germinate, they can sense the presence of sunlight, and once they break through the ground, they will grow desperately to sunny places.

This competition for sunlight is so fierce that the loser will die, gradually rot, become part of the soil, and be absorbed by other plants.

This is a natural cycle, every plant will return to the earth.

If you have good observation skills and pay attention, you will find that those leaves that seem to grow irregularly actually have their own growth logic.

In order to get the most sunlight, the trees arrange the leaves accurately, layer by layer, but try to let all the leaves get some sunlight.

The steeple-shaped canopy is the most effective way to bask in the sun.

So most of the trees are exclusive, they monopolize that piece of sunlight, so that it is difficult for those new saplings to grow.

They can only wait for the old tree to die, or rely on their population advantage to grow taller than the old tree. For example, a large evergreen tree such as an oak has an absolute advantage in the face of some small shrubs.

But their waiting is often not successful, and it has already died.

The same is true in this swamp forest, large and small shrubs and trees seem to grow close together, but in fact each has its own territory.

Of course, it is not ruled out that some of them are engaged in fierce competition, and the winner will not be determined until several years, or even ten or twenty years later.

I was rooted on the trunk of the big tree, feeling everything around me, and I could clearly see some small saplings like me emerging from the soil.

If you're lucky, they'll grow right in the middle of two trees, and there might be a gap for it to grow.

If you are unlucky and grow under other old trees, in the absence of sunlight, they will not last long and die.

Of course, there are still some who died due to various accidents.

The young sapling growing by the pond had just sprouted a few leaves when it was eaten by a small deer.

Whether it is a person or a plant, it is difficult to avoid this unexpected disaster.

That's why humans created a word called "destiny".

Or it can be explained in another way, that is "probability", you just happen to be within that "probability".

So I'm not the worst luck.

The branches of the big tree are cracked and the gaps allow my roots to get in, and I absorb the water and nutrients in the branches.

During the daytime, the sun slantly shines over, and occasionally the sun that leaks down will shine on my leaves for a while. At that time, I try my best to accumulate energy to produce the food I need.

I instinctively grow towards the direction of the sun, but the branches and leaves of the big tree are very dense, and there is too little space for me to bask in the sun.

So I can't make up my mind where to grow, because no matter from which direction, there are overwhelming leaves.

This keeps me from making enough food.

If you don't have enough to eat, of course you won't be able to grow.

The stalks and leaves look a little yellow, like the yellow leaves of cabbages in the garden that haven't been cared for properly.

I have nothing to complain about though.

Not one of the thousands of seeds will survive. Most of the seeds become food for birds and other small animals, and some of them fall in places where they cannot germinate. They don't even have a chance to germinate.

I'm just not one of those lucky ones.

Spring is always windy.

The moist wind blows non-stop, making the leaves of the big trees sway and make a "rustling" sound, as if whispering softly in your ear.

Very gentle.

The big tree was shaking, as if it was doing some hard work.

It didn't take long for me to realize that something wasn't quite right.

Farther away from the top of my head, there is a thick branch with a cross there, and the dense green leaves on it are starting to turn yellow collectively.

After a few more days, it seemed that the branch was seriously ill, and the leaves became withered and yellow.

Finally, these almost dead leaves finally left the trunk, fluttered in the air, and then slowly fell to the ground.

I don't know what kind of disease the trunk of the big tree has, and I don't know if it will slowly spread from the trunk to the whole tree.

It's really uncomfortable to watch the branches that were originally vibrant become bare, and even the tips of the branches are dry and cracked due to lack of water.

It's like seeing a sick person with his own eyes, slowly being tormented by the pain, and the people who see it next to him can more or less feel the painful torture.

I like the big tree very much, because it has silently tolerated the predatory behavior of my seedling.

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, it has been protecting me and pampering me, but now, it is facing a great crisis.

Suddenly something popped up in my memory.

When I was very young, in my hometown in the countryside, there was an orange tree planted in a yard, which grew for several years without seeing how it grew.

Just when we thought it would definitely not bear fruit, it produced oranges for the first time that winter.

Before the first snow fell, the four oranges were ripe, golden and lovely fruits, very sweet.

In the second year, we are naturally full of hope, wanting to see oranges hanging on its branches.

It turned out to be sick.

First a branch, then spread to several branches, then half a tree, and finally the whole tree withered.

Afterwards, we planted other orange trees, but we never had such sweet oranges again.

I can only watch the big tree go to the end.

But the situation is not so bad.

The disease on that dead branch did not infect the other trunks. The other trunks were still green and full of vitality, without any symptoms.

Therefore, if you look at it from a distance, you will find a large piece missing between the lush branches and leaves of the big tree.

From this empty place, the sun shines in.

I stared blankly at the place that became empty after the branch withered.

There was still a withered yellow leaf hanging on the dead branch, as if lingering on the trunk and refusing to leave.

Now, my path to the sun has been cleared.

I just have to work hard, face the direction of the sun, and grow up.

If it is not my illusion, then the big tree seems to be as conscious as I am, and it takes care of me as if it were its own child.

It's actually not that gentle.

It's as if those little saplings that germinated under the big tree didn't get the slightest care, but let them fend for themselves like a bystander.

The gray bird jumped around next to me, looked at me sideways, and occasionally stretched out its tender red beak to peck at my leaves.

Its eyes are pure and innocent, as if it has done nothing bad.

I shook the leaves.

It jumped back, and after a while, when there was no movement, it came back again, as if it was very interested in me, and kept looking at me.

Its nest is just above me, and it spends a lot of time hunting for prey every day, and it will cry happily when it is left.

The call of the gray bird is quite monotonous, far from the word tactful.But it doesn't have the slightest self-knowledge, as long as it seizes the opportunity, it will yell and scream.

There are two objects it plays with, one is my little sapling, and the other is the nest of little foxes.

It is always pecking at my leaves.

And I went from being submissive at the beginning to being unbearably disturbed later.

Finally, when I found that I could frighten it away by gently shaking it with the wind, I began to consciously control my branches and leaves.

At first, of course, it didn't work at all.

But later, I found that maybe this is not completely impossible.

As I got a little older, I found that I had more and more control over my foliage.

In the past, its growth seemed to have nothing to do with my consciousness. It seemed to follow the instructions of nature and rely on the instinct of genes to survive tenaciously.

And it is not affected by my consciousness at all.

And now, I find that I can shake the few leaves on top of me lightly. Although the amplitude is very slight, I can still clearly feel that my ability to control the branches and leaves is gradually increasing.

After this situation was discovered by me, I couldn't help but feel a little ecstatic.

Imagine, maybe in a few years, or a little shorter, a few months, I can move freely, let my roots stretch in the ground, and then slowly move to another place, just like moving house.

People always have an illusion that plants cannot move their bodies.

But that's not the case.

The vast world has bred countless strange species.

For example, among plants, there are also varieties that can move to other places as the environment changes.

They are travelers among plants.

Following the wind, I let the very thin stems shake slightly, and the leaves also shook. Occasionally, I could touch the leaves on the trunk of the big tree next to me.

As if the big tree would respond, the leaves moved slightly, and then we played a bumping game.

I don't know if it's because of the wind or our own consciousness.

It was a tender feeling that made my heart itch.