Unlike its neighbor Lebanon Sycamore was a native of Crimea. And he was very proud of it. As well as his acquaintance with one of the people legends of the peninsula – world wide famous guitar virtuoso Enver Izmaylov. Of course Enver’s guitars weren’t made of sycamores (thanks God!). It’s just that Izmaylov very loved coming to the park especially to Sycamore, to pat on his trunk and his leaves, to tell him the news, to listen to the rustle of his news. And then Sycamore with proud translated Enver’s stories to the plants around and enjoyed with attention of trees, bushes and even grass between his roots. He felt himself a real king of the...
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She has adored in dawns and sunsets, and nightingale’s songs at warm spring nights, and courtship the male to the female robins on her branches, and the sound of the sea not far away, and the storm with the hard rain (especially when some young couple were kissing standing beside her and didn’t noticing thunder and flashes of lightning). If she was a human she would love watching movies, that’s for sure. But she wasn’t unhappy being a tree. Especially in spring time when she wore her favorite yellow dress and all around admiringly looked at her and whispered...
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Here came the last night of her life. Why did she know it? No reasons. Simply knew. Just the time has come and she felt it. But there was no fear or anger in her soul. She has lived a long and happy life. Not without loss, of course, but the bad things have forgotten and the good ones have stayed forever. All that day she has enjoyed the world around. She didn’t try to breathe or see enough – just enjoyed. She still has a few hours. And she has an eternity in the same...
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