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Monday, April 04, 2005

Story of and for trees, part 2

Finally I can continue my tree story. Hemm..where was I, oh yes, my grandmother's lesson. Still at my grandmother's village, I found another reason to be in love with trees.

One day, on our way to Padang, we stopped next to a secluded river found next to the street. I love this street because it is build around a mountain, where most of mountains vegetations are kept intouch to prevent erotion. And there is even a natural waterfall next to the street! This time we didn't stop at the waterfall, there were too many people. We went further, and stopped at an entrance of villas. There was a path to go down, where you will find small houses built next to river at the foot of the hill. We went down, and voila..I saw river surrounded by hills covered by old trees, whose old roots and branches created natural umbrella and wall from the 'outside' world. I went speechless, I though I would burst into tears. It was so quiet and untouched by time.

Everything was so natural and old. Water flow between black and slippery stones. It was so clean and fresh. No noise except the breeze of leaves and the flush of water. Suddenly I felt like an intruder of a pristine world. I finally realized how old the world is, I felt so small and young in front of those magnificent trees.

I then braved myself to dip my feets into the river. Together with my best friend, we sat among old roots and, for few minutes, let ourselves to be enchanted by the nature. I didn't know how long I sat on the riverside, enjoying the fresh mountain water washing away my fatigue, and admiring the most beautiful creature around me. I wanted the time to stop, leaving me and my best friend to be part of this world.

That was the time when I start to be really in love in trees. I still remember that I said to myself, if only I could be a tree. I still wish it today. My love for trees is not only for its function and what it can bring to me. I simply love trees for what it is, for its beauty, age and existence.

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