The Conversation of the Tree and the Wind

Somewhere on the outskirts of a field, where the wind is free to roam between the hills, there is a tree. Its branches are spread out in different directions, reaching for the sky, as if trying to reach for something invisible. It used to be covered with thick foliage, rustling in the sunlight and giving shade to travelers. And now it stands naked, seemingly lonely, but at the same time unshakable.

A bird is sitting on one of the highest branches. It looks small compared to the spreading, strong branches, but there is something about it that makes you pay attention to it. Its silhouette is clearly visible against the gray sky. It is in no hurry to fly, as if it is waiting for something.

What is it waiting for? Perhaps the wind is going to whisper him a direction? Perhaps he is just resting after a long journey? Or maybe he is hesitating, just like each of us at certain moments in our lives?

Waiting time

People often think that waiting is a waste of time. It seems to us that as soon as we stop, life will start passing by. We are afraid to stand still, afraid that while we are thinking, others will already act. But the tree knows that every moment has its own value. Waiting is not inactivity, but a part of growth.

It stands under the sky and is not afraid that the wind will break its branches. It knows that even if a branch falls, new ones will appear in the spring. It believes in its time.

A bird also knows that before it takes off, it needs to feel that the time has come.

Sometimes we are all like that tree, standing in the unknown, waiting for change. And sometimes we are a bird that hesitates before spreading its wings.

Spring is coming

Sunlight appears as a thin line on the horizon. It hasn't broken through the clouds completely yet, but it's already a sign. The tree has no doubt that spring will come. It always comes, even if it seems that winter lasts too long.

The bird lingers a little longer, listens to the wind, and then suddenly spreads its wings and takes off into the sky. Its silhouette disappears between the branches.

But the tree remains. It is in no hurry. Its strength lies in its faith in a new day.

We are the same way: even in the coldest periods of our lives, we must remember that spring will always come. We just have to be able to wait.

My story

“Well, here you are again,” said the tree as the wind rushed through its branches.

“What else am I supposed to do?” the wind replied playfully. “I come and go, but you… you just stand here. Don’t you get bored?”

“And you just keep flying. Doesn’t that get boring?” the tree smiled.

The wind had no answer. It never stayed in one place, always rushing somewhere, stirring the waves in the sea, spinning leaves along the paths. But the tree… the tree waited.

It knew: spring would come, and its branches would be covered in leaves again. It never doubted it, just as a person never doubts that morning will follow the night.

A small bird sat on the highest branch. It gazed at the sky in silence, as if waiting for something.

“Why don’t you fly?” the wind asked.

“It’s not time yet,” the bird replied.

“And how do you all know when ‘the time’ is?” The wind swirled around the tree, trying to shake it, but it stood firm.

“We just feel it,” said the tree.

“We trust the wind,” added the bird.

“But I just wander the world…” The wind paused for a moment, thinking.

“Exactly,” the tree smiled. “And that is your essence.”

The wind said nothing. It only gently brushed against the branches, nudged the bird forward, and rushed on.

The bird spread its wings, flapped once, then again… and took off.

And the tree remained, waiting. Spring was near.

We are all a bit of wind, a bit of tree, a bit of bird.

Sometimes we rush forward aimlessly, looking for meaning in movement. Sometimes we stand still, as if rooted to the ground, waiting for change. And sometimes we sit on the highest branch of our lives, gazing into the distance and trying to understand when it will be time to take off.

But the main thing is to trust the world. Spring always comes, even if it seems that winter has dragged on. The wind will always help those who are ready to take flight. And life always knows when it's time for change.

All you have to do is listen. And to feel. For me, the wind feels like a friend who never stays too long. What does it mean to you?