It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see. (Henry David Thoreau)
The Seed
The seed lay snug within her apple. Wind, rain, and sun brushed the surface of her fruit. Inside, protected, the seed grew dark and smooth. The tree told its growing parts that spring blossoms lived on the tree’s branches before they were formed. However, the seed did not want to hear about anything that happened a long time ago. She preferred to rest in a comfortable, firm sweetness that grew as summer brought warmth and long daylight stretches.
The seed expected endless safety. However, one afternoon in late summer, she felt a sharp jolt as her round, red home was snapped from its branch. Other apples left their places, too. They traveled miles from their birthplace.
The seed felt its fleshy home split with a sharp object. She was scooped out with the other seeds who lived with her. They were tossed aside.
“What is happening to me?” she called.
“Or us?” the other seeds replied.
But the seed didn’t hear. She was already taken away.
A dark time passed as the seed lay surrounded by moist soil in a small container for what seemed to be a century. Then something happened. She felt a violent tug in her center. She knew she was changing.
A creature, a lot like the one who pulled her from her home, grabbed her from the smaller container and placed her inside the ground. In time, she realized she looked much different. She was frightened.
“What is happening to me?”
A tall tree towered above her. She did not yet realize that she was also a tree, not until the days warmed and white blossoms appeared on her branches. They became fruit when the heat continued.
“Why did I worry so much. Everything I have experienced is natural. I must warn the other seeds. Somehow. They must not suffer like I did.”
She spoke to her own seeds. They didn’t listen. No matter how loud she yelled.
“Hush,” the wind told her. “You can’t find instant wisdom, especially if you haven’t discovered it for yourself.”
As the season passed, another creature appeared and stole one apple, and then another.
The seed, now a tree herself, watched.
“Wind,” she called. “Have I found wisdom yet?”
The wind did not answer. Nevertheless, the new apple tree waited even as winter came and robbed her of her gifts.
terrypetersen 