Friday, March 04, 2005


Bound in unlit Christmas lights and moss, the tree waits for winter to pass, for the cold to clear. Its branches haven’t lost their green leaves, the weight of birds and children a burden sometimes, the shade a draw to lizards, possums, and skunks. The trunk is thick and roped, the ground dry and dusty, prohibitive to plants or flowers. One, though, lives. A blossomy vine has managed to snake a path from the neighbor’s house and wrap around the tree’s roots, crawling upwards, heading towards the warm crook where the trunk splits into two, then into many.

The vine won’t let go – she’ll have to be ripped away from the bark by bare, insistent hands. She’ll have to be poisoned, starved, cut, mutilated, before she’ll part ways. Even then, the tie won’t be over. No, the shredded roots will reach up through the churned soil, will stretch towards the sky and sun, and grow once again. She’ll inch across the grass, blindly making her way to the tree, slithering through the blades, and then at the shade, she’ll feel the tree’s soul and grasp the knots and ribs. Upwards she’ll move, wrapping herself around him, draw her leaves in tight, only to unfurl in a desperate embrace of the gullies and bumps and scraped skin of her beloved.

They’ll never be alone, they know, because they were made for each other and there they’ll stay, intertwined, until forever passes them by, just like we two, my dear, just like we two.


narrator said...

what a fantastic love story. very brilliant.

newspell said...

love of a friend. love of a mother. love of a wife.


i have a new nextel phone, the direct connect kind. my phone just beeped and my daughter's crusty morning voice said "have a good day at work, daddy..."

i have my own vines.

this churned deep inside...

Adriana Bliss said...

What lovely notes to wake up to. Thank you, Narrator, infinitely.

Rick, those vines are what sustain us. Without them, we'd be subject to skunks and possums with no balance.

hokkaidoabbey said...

Beautiful, dreamy story, Adrianna.

Two dischordant observations (with which I don't intend to take away from the original sweetness of your work): first, the vine in the photo looks a bit like barbed wire. Second, I found myself wondering midway through the second reading of this if it would feel any different if the vine were male, and the tree were female.

Adriana Bliss said...

hokkaidoabbey, a note on the picture. The binding around the tree is a string of Christmas lights. Still up, in the middle of March. Down the street from where I live. The tree looked burdened to me. The green struck me as a vine, but in truth, I think they're uncut tree sprouts.

Your second observation is a good one - I tend to think the impact might be the same, but perhaps not, perhaps it would depend on the particular character involved.

Thank you for coming here. :)