Trees line the roads here, with orchards and gardens down every lane.
Old age in trees causes the production of fruits and nuts to slow.
These slower to produce trees are often removed.
Slaughtered to make room for more youthful, productive trees.
It saddens me, that with old age these trees are deemed futile, dismissed and evicted.
Leaving a barren landscape of what once was.
Like corpses stung along the ground, a sight of decimation and emptiness.
Roots pulled from the earth that once held them strong.
A graveyard of past employees who service is no longer desired.
Soon to be replaced by younger, more vibrant and attractive populous who's production will flourish then diminish just the same as it's predecessor.
To be fruitful, if only for a short time.
I hope when I am old and less productive that my roots will remain in the ground and not be uprooted from my home to make space for the youthful.
Instead, let me stand as testament to youth that one day you too shall be as withered, yet strong and wise as those who came before you.
Have fun.
*winter
