Branches shorn of leaves are invading my horizon, weaving a network of arteries supplying pure thoughts to my impure mind. The branches have a defiant attitude, devoid of any pretenses, all the beautiful leaves taken away by the wind as the season of austerity comes. The barren branches a stark reminder of life's changing colors that seasons change, happy now, sad, contemplative at another moment. To me, a tree looks far more beautiful in its simplicity. Just like no two persons, no two snowflakes, no two clouds are alike, so is the case with trees. Each of us is special in our own way. Trees are sensitive and reflect human emotions in their own unique way. The wind rustling through the leaves has the power to exhilirate us, frighten us. Or, just the quiet presence of a lone warrior can bring about a sombre, respectful mood. Often I wonder what is it that I see in a tree. I'd pass by a tree and cannot help but notice its beauty, its weather-beaten limbs, its arteries feeding my mind, adorned with leaves. I have often compared myself to a leaf in a moment, a leaf that turns yellow, and the wind blows and takes the jaded leaf far, far away. And, unashamedly, I admire the trees that sustain life, feed our emotions and keep us grounded with a humble attitude.

  

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