The summer Sun blazed down with an unbearable intensity.
The air shimmered and Mother Earth sizzled.
The trees stood tall, proud defiant and unbowed.
They had never bent and never would.
She alone submitted.
Perhaps He would be happy.
Perhaps He would relent.
She would do whatever it took.
For this wasn’t just about her.
There were others fighting a losing battle.
It wasn’t much.
Yet for the scorched traveler, her shade was heaven.
Just as not all those who wander are lost, not all those who yield are weak.
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees – 306 and the WPC – Layered
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