Our very tall pine, because it was a noble pine, had noted and taken an interest in the small pine almost from the moment the bracts had opened on a particular cone out of which the small pine had dropped as a seed. The tall pine was busy, mind you, very busy keeping watch over the thousands upon thousands of other pines in the grove — not to mention over its own growth — but it now had the luxury of age and could afford to cover seedlings. And so, it kept a special tall pine’s eye out for one small pine — which, when all is said and done, is the subject of our story.

Our very tall pine, because it was a noble pine, had noted and taken an interest in the small pine almost from the moment the bracts had opened on a particular cone out of which the small pine had dropped as a seed.

One day in early fall, an odd assortment of men came to the grove, came afoot, came well-dressed. They — like the agri-tycoons — looked serious about their business; and yet, they were not entirely insensible of their surroundings. To a tall, whispering pine, their manner of speech was not unpleasant. They spoke and gestured little, did not slap each other on the back and laugh, did not otherwise disturb the quiet of the grove — but merely looked, measured, and took notes.

The small pine had never seen such a collection of men. The tall pine had — many times. This, however, was the first time the tall pine had seen such a collection of men looking, measuring, and taking notes — on it.

Over the next several weeks, the days grew shorter, the nights longer, the mornings chillier, the evenings damper. The danger for a forest lies neither in winter with the cold, nor in summer with a drought, nor even in spring with the floods, but with autumn, when too many trees busily flaunt their foliage and fail to realize that life is not everlasting.

Our two conifers, because they belonged to the family Pinaceae, did not flaunt their foliage. The truth is, they had no foliage to flaunt. They had only needles: green in summer; green in winter; green in spring and fall — which is why they’re called “evergreens.”

Some of these same men came back again, but this time, in the company of a larger group with saws.

They gathered around the big pine and muttered among themselves, though not with elaborate gestures.

One gave a signal. Another immediately started up a saw and clove into the wood of the tall pine — which much disturbed the quiet of the grove. The tall pine didn’t complain, but instead turned to the small pine and whispered: “It is as it should be.”

The small pine was dumbfounded. It stood stock still.

The tall pine continued. “I am a noble pine. I can stand tall, reign over the grove, live a life everlasting — or at least for as long as this grove stands. They may cut me, but I feel nothing of their cuts. Their implements may bite me, but I do not feel their implements’ teeth. They may insult me, curse and disturb the quiet, but I remain deaf to their insults and curses. Close your ears, little pine. Close them.”