If I were a tree ........

Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you were a tree? Strange question I know, but one I have given due consideration to and found somewhat difficult to answer. If I were a tree, where would I be? So many choices, but I guess once I decide on a location there would be no going back. It's not as though you can "up roots" and move on when the mood takes you. Clinging to the bank of a river as it wends its way gently onwards, sheltering the final resting place of those no longer amongst us as the midday sun strokes the cemetery gravestones .... or perhaps standing alone in the middle of a field, tall and proud, a landmark, a place to pass on your journey home. Maybe I would prefer the companionship of a wooded glade, a forest creeping across the slopes of a mountain, or a tree-lined avenue announcing the opulent seclusion of wealthy mansion dwellers. A park, ornamental gardens, the grounds of a manor house ..... where, oh where would I unpack my trunk (sorry!) and take up residence.
Then, of course, much thought must be given to the environment into which I shall plant myself. Children playing beneath my branches, ladies lunching, benches awaiting the reader, the talker, those seeking quiet contemplation or a quick nap ..... yes, that would be most enjoyable. Then there is the forest. Rustled conversation with fellow trees as the breeze softly rustles the leaves, the odd argument or two as storm clouds and angry winds bend branches, refreshing showers as raindrops drip from tree to tree before bouncing to the carpeted forest floor. How I would love the birds nesting as I stretch towards the sky, squirrels scurrying up and down, woodland creatures nestling among my roots. I could be a publicity seeker, an exotic species, blossom-clad, scented, an object of interest, of fascination, photographed daily, talked about in the lecture halls as I take my place in the Botanic Gardens for all to see.
Okay, so all the above given due care and attention, what now? Do I want to be a tall tree, a short tree, or something in between? Should I lose my leaves in the winter, or hang on to them? Am I ready to face the world stark naked when the weather is at its coldest? Maybe not ..... A fruit tree? No. Don't really fancy holding on to apples, plums, pears and the like until they are ripe. Can't let them fall too soon, can't hold on to them too long. Too many decisions for a tree to handle! Blossom ....... blossom would be nice as long as the weather plays ball. Seems to me little point in going to all the trouble of creating a stunning display if an inconsiderate wind blows along and scatters it to all four corners of the earth before it has been fully appreciated by those who fully appreciate such things. Now a horse chestnut tree could be fun. How many direct hits could I achieve as I release my prickly cases above the heads of unsuspecting children. Just retribution, I feel, for their hurling of sticks and stones at my precious cargo. No, maybe not ...... or could I?
This being a tree is hard work. Not just a case of springing up in an empty space and getting on with the job in hand. And some trees are so old. Imagine spending hundreds of years in the same spot. Life around you may change, people come and go, but you remain, solid, dependable. But how wonderful would it be to talk to these trees. Many have witnessed battles, housed fugitives in their branches, seen towns grow around them, experienced all that is good and bad as history has evolved. They know truth from fiction, lived through fire, flood and famine, survived bombs dropping and the onslaught of the industrial age. Yes, many were lost, but those who remain keep history wrapped safely within their trunks, protected by their bark as the leaves of a book are kept safe by their cover.
So do the advantages of being a tree outweight the drawbacks? No shopping, no housework, no financial pressures. But what would I face were I a tree? No shelter from the elements, at the mercy of wind, rain and snow, no escape from all our weather can conjure up at a moment's notice. And trees get sick .... but have to wait until someone notices. No quick phone call to the tree surgeon or the summoning of an ambulance. Trees die .... but few come to bid them farewell. I could be chopped down and left to rot, or meet a fiery end on a bonfire. And do I really want woodpeckers hammering into me, giving me trunk-ache? Or suffer at the hands of inane idiots carving their initials - or worse - into my trunk in acts of mindless vandalism. Do I want to be discarded in the name of progress, climbed by cats stupid enough to get stuck and then driven insane by their constant meowing until a shiny red fire engine pops along to effect a rescue. I may be struck by lightning, washed away in a flood, eaten by termites, attacked by woodworm ....... no, I don't think I want to be a tree. Maybe a flower ........