Hug a Tree

As an assignment for my sociology class, I needed to hug a tree for 5 minutes. Here's what I got out of it:


I looked up into the forest of branches above me and began my ascent into the unknown reaches of the apple tree in my backyard. As soon as I’d hoisted myself up off the ground, I felt a wet, sticky sensation on my hand. My mother had assured me that there wouldn’t be any bugs, due to my father’s spraying efforts, but neither of us had thought of the birds. I looked at my hand with apprehension and guessed that the leftovers from the birds was a sign that the tree didn’t want me to mingle with its limbs. This was going to be harder than I thought. Wiping the stool off of my hand, I positioned myself in a comfortable position near the trunk and assured the tree that there was nothing to be afraid of: I wouldn’t hurt it.

I wrapped my arms around the sturdy trunk and realized that the weight of my insignificant body had no effect on it. All of my weight was resting on a single branch with nothing between it and the ground below, and yet there was nothing to fear. The strength of the beautiful giant in front of me was enough to hold me up without even budging an inch. As I looked up into the gracefully swaying branches I saw that I wasn’t alone. Like a mother of so many precious children, the tree held hundreds of apples, each the size of a small fist, within her sheltering grasp. The branches progressively got thinner the further up the tree they were, but each of them yielded enough apples to make them bend directly towards the ground, though every one of them grew nearly straight up out of the trunk. Branches with no apples continued to stretch as far into the heavens as they could, grasping for the sunlight and possible rain that would bring nutrients that the children desperately needed to grow.

A thought struck me as I leveled my awed gaze to stare at the trunk directly in front of me. This tree was nothing but a mother. She would do anything within her abilities to posses the shelter and nourishment that her children needed. Even though her branches were heavy-laden with fruit, the leaves determinedly grew long and wide. Everything about the tree’s structure suggested that she was built for nothing else but to produce the fruit. Even the seemingly flimsy branches were strong enough to withhold the weight.

I suddenly felt guilty for climbing into such an intimate environment. This mother was doing her best to help her precious children grow to be a big and strong as possible, and here I was doing nothing but give her more weight to carry. I was grateful when my timer went off, signally that my time with the tree was done. Hurriedly, I dropped to the ground and stepped back look at the perfect example of dedication and devotion. Though I was glad to no longer be a burden to the tree, I was sad that my time with her was up. I knew that I’d seen into a world that not many people notice through the hustling motions of our modern-day world. Maybe we should try to be more noticeable of the world around us, and take the harmony of Mother Nature’s aspects into consideration for examples for our own lives. Maybe then life would slow down. Maybe then the important things would seem more important than the trivial tasks we busy ourselves with from day to day.