The Trees Talk to Me.

They really do.

I have a favourite tree at uni. It's the huge tree outside Wilson's Hall - at the building's northeast corner, just above the steps. I love it's size. Makes me feel.... safe. This tree is marvelous in the autumn, the leaves are really beautiful. The colours aren't particularly astounding - it is just the regular, orange/brown colour that you would expect of many trees in the autumn. Nevertheless, the tree is always there - peaceful, just doing it's thing, creating a creating a beautiful image against the otherwise rather ordinary looking buildings in the background.

Often times, I would walk past this tree, and if I was not having the best of days, it would make me feel better. It's a bit like looking at some of my photos of places I've been to. Sometimes, looking at a photo of a mountain I've climbed at a time when I was feeling at ease just makes me feel peaceful. Likewise, this tree calms me down.

But this tree that I love so much was mocking me this week. For the first time ever, the tree hurled insults at me when I walked by.

It wasn't just this tree. The whole lane of trees on the road as you go into uni from Swanston St, with the Richard Berry building on your left and the Elizabeth Murdoch building on the right... they were making fun of me too.

That was earlier this week.

Perhaps the trees have calmed down a bit in the last few days. Or, perhaps I'm getting better. Because, today the trees decided to smile at me instead. I saw many trees today, and instead of mocking me, yelling at me and calling me names, they told me all sorts of nice things.

The trees talk to me.