I can’t tell you how upset I was at your letter. What a bitter fruit it was to swallow, that is if I could swallow.
I hate to remind you, but the summer really will end and then where will you be? I’ll tell you where you will be – where you are now, because you are a tree and trees don’t move (unless you’re a Triffid) and when I last heard you were a Sycamore.
It’s all very well putting all your current nutrients in to your top half, so to speak, but I think you’ll find the winter a killer and I mean that literally, unless you put some thought and effort into growing those roots.
I urge you to think about what happened to your Aunt Maple. One season in all her glory and then she fell apart. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree I say, although I am not for one minute suggesting that you are an apple tree.
For myself I am committing all my energy to going down. Deeper and deeper I go. I have found water, but now I want the purer stuff. I will not give up until I have found the greatest source of nutrients and water to be found.
I certainly don’t have time for all that photosynthesis business. Who cares what our branches look like, or if we’re giving homes to birds or developing green leaves? (Coughs loudly - wheezy) Excuse me I’m having a bit of trouble breathing. I can’t think why.
Your friend in treedom