A Year in the Life of a Tree 🌲 - by Oluwatosin Leramo

A Year in the Life of a Tree 🌲  Tree Name: The Old Oak by Miller’s FieldLocation: Rural countryside, edge of a small farm 🌱 Spring – Awakening As the frost retreats and the days grow longer, the old oak begins to stir. Tiny buds appear along its gray-brown limbs, each one a silent promise. Beneath the bark, sap begins to rise, like blood waking from sleep. Robins return, flitting among its branches. A pair builds a nest in a crook high above. Bees hum softly around the opening blossoms at the base, pollinating dandelions and early flowers that sprout nearby. The tree has seen 100 springs. It knows the rhythm. It waits. ☀️ Summer – Shelter and Growth By June, the oak is in full crown — a towering canopy of deep green. Its leaves absorb sunlight, creating sugars that feed its massive body. Its roots dig deep, drinking water that lies meters beneath the soil. A squirrel scurries along its branches. Children from the nearby farm climb its limbs, laughing and dangling their legs from its arms like it’s always been theirs. Birdsong, buzzing, wind, and sun — the old oak is a living world in itself. 🍂 Autumn – Letting Go Come October, a chill rides the wind. The tree’s leaves shift — deep reds, golden browns, burnt orange. It begins the slow work of shutting down, withdrawing energy from each leaf. One by one, the leaves let go. They drift to the earth and form a soft blanket below, nourishing the soil that nourished them. Squirrels bury acorns in its shadow. The tree knows only a few will survive — but that’s enough. ❄️ Winter – Stillness and Memory Now bare, the oak stands exposed against a pale sky. Its branches stretch like bones into the cold air. Snow clings to its bark. No birds sing. No bees buzz. But the tree is not dead — it’s waiting. Under the frost-covered ground, roots still stretch and grow slowly, quietly. Deep inside, its memory holds every storm, every summer breeze, every child’s voice, every fallen leaf. It dreams in wood grain and sap. A year has passed, as they always do. And soon, it will begin again. 🌳 Closing Thought One tree, one year — yet it carries the wisdom of centuries. In a fast-moving world, the old oak teaches us that life isn’t about speed. It’s about staying rooted, adapting with the seasons, and always, always growing — even in stillness.

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