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  • In the springtime the tree gives to the bird a perfectly shaded branch on which to build its nest, watching it come and go, small twigs gathered tightly in his tiny beak. It opens its pungent blossoms and releases its rich fragrance to attract the fickle butterflies, giving the bird a chance to catch its lunch.

    During midsummer afternoon storms the tree uses its broad flat leaves to shelter the bird's nest from the rain, and when the sun shines again it dips the leaves down and drops fresh rain water into the gaping mouths of eager chicks, and pools water at the base of its gnarly trunks for the birds to have a refreshing bathe.

    Come windy autumn the tree ripens its fruits for the birds to eat, turning its sweetness into nourishment to survive the coming cold.

    Even in the freezing winter, when the snow starts falling the tree hollows out a part of itself, letting it rot and soften so that the bird can take refuge between the warmth of thick layers of tree flesh and bark.

    Yet when the bird suddenly flies away and abandons the tree, one fine clear day, without explanation, without thanks, without any warning and without even know why it flew away in the first place, the tree, like the bird, feels no sorrow nor any confusion.

    For both fulfilled its duty, loving each other freely, without promises, without expectations. And when the time came it was simply the time.

    May I learn to love as freely.
    May I learn to let go as freely as well.
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