Watch how the trees extend their arms up to the sky and spread their fingers, embracing every ounce of liberty and sunshine. Not only do they embrace the sunshine as it descends against a backdrop of bright colors; they embrace the sky through its storms, forever forgiving of its ability to tear off their clothes, leaving them naked for the winter and all through spring.
Even when the sky’s cold breath forces the birds to flutter out of the trees’ arms and off into the great horizon, their arms remain open and welcoming. Sometimes they grasp the hands of other trees, consoling one another as they watch each resident depart. Yet they loyally hold the lifeless nests tightly to their chests, yearning for the birds to return someday to the homes they had made.
They mourn for months until the sun is finally stable enough to clothe them with only the finest greens nature has to offer, still with outstretched arms throughout their states of loneliness. They hope the birds will return to witness their newfound beauty—and they do. The birds always return, singing songs of celebration as they flock to the trees, embracing them with gratefulness for keeping their homes just as they’d left them.