There are three mango trees right outside my window.
This one is at the left corner and its branches intermingle with the middle one – almost as if they were one. If you visited my earlier post here you would remember that I commented on their apparent overnight transformation. One fine day I noticed that the leaves were no longer dark or stiff and dusty. They were lush, tender green, brown and yellow shiny leaves! No striptease, shedding old leaves, baring arms and all that – just a magical instant make over. I promised to catch them in the act the next time. But that was a whole year away. That’s when it struck me – there was no need to wait for so long.
They were both here, right under my nose. That’s the middle mango tree on the left and the third one on the right. I don’t need to ask you if you can see the difference between the two mango trees.
One is lush green and yellow, overloaded with fresh luscious leaves, heavily pregnant so to speak, just waiting to pop out mangoes. And the other, stuck in a time warp with its dark sparse leaves, stagnant and unchanging through the seasons. As if it had given up on life, barely hanging on – a gust of wind would be enough to snap it, end it all.
I looked once more at the dying tree and blinked.
What was that?
Within the dry hard winter leaves nestled tender, fresh shiny leaves, lime and brown. Can you see?
By the way, how many mangoes did you count?
It’s never over until you say it is over – and sometimes not even then.
For Becca’s Sunday Trees 283