On my first submission, Heart of Ivy, a commenter suggested I attempt to approach tree in my backyard. Shortly after, I took this person's advice, and went out of doors.
On this day, it was a chilly and clear winter day. Around noon, I gathered my pajamas about myself, and headed outside, to the tree who tilts forlornly.
I circled the tree, trailing my hand along the rough bark. "Hello," I said softly. The tree had no response.
My hand suddenly dragged over something sharper and inorganic than the now numbing ridges of bark. Where my hand was, a long, rusty nail had been hammered into the tree. This brought to mind the stories I have heard of how to kill a witch: draw her picture on a tree and drive a nail through where her heart would be.
I tried pulling out the nail with my bare hands, all the while murmuring to the tree, to comfort it. By this time, I figured it was no use trying to get a response from this tree; my previous experience was but a figment of my imagination, and I probably looked like a fool, talking to this tree. I took one long look at the nail, laid my hand on the tree, and whispered, "That nail looks painful, would you like to get it out?"
It was then that I got a response.
The tree, not literally, had leaned into my hand, and waves of exasperation and eagerness rolled off of the tree. Startled initially, I smiled slightly, and resolved to do that soon. I have not done it, but I do plan to do it during the upcoming weeks in the early spring weather.
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