“Years ago Gerard posted this on AD and you may have seen it then, maybe about 2017.”
A ghostsniper tale, originally posted by Gerard.

I wrote this little story based in fact a year after we moved here to the woods. The surroundings changed me, er, they revealed a new me, er, the real me. I can never again live in a suburban area and urban areas are now completely foreign and detestable. I will die here, among the trees.

Twenty feet northwest of the northwest corner of our porch stands a majestic sugar maple tree. 

It is easy to see, cloaked in its autumn’s golden garb, standing sentinel to the entrance of the forest. 

I’ve seen this tree many times and never considered the stories it holds but this morning I was captured by its very essence. 

The sugar maple’s tale is a long tale, spanning perhaps decades, but the tale is mainly silent, meant only for those with patience. 

Once, it was a mere seedling doomed from the beginning to end up in the forest creatures wintry pantry. 

But luck was in its favor and it took root in fertile ground and this is where the sugar maples tale begins. 

Left alone, by man, and bestowed with the richness of nature, all the essentials of life were in abundance and the sugar maple seedling drank deeply of this nectar of the forest floor. 

Through the seasons it changed and adapted drawing on its innate blueprint for success and flourished as other sugar maples have done for millennia. 

Providing food and shelter for natures creatures is the role of the sugar maple and the propensity to spread its seeds are its eternal legacy. 

I stood and watched the sugar maple this morning and I saw it through different eyes. 

Eyes that have grown to another way of life where the details are in the minute, the simple. 

The story of the sugar maple is more like a moving picture than a still shot because it is alive and interacting with its environment. 

But the observer, accustomed to a quicker pace, may not realize the life that ebbs and flows within and around. 

Only with patience and resolve will the sugar maple’s tale be discovered. 

A steady parade of leaves were showering down from this awesome sugar maple and I stood mesmerized in its grace, unable to pull my eyes from its captivating performance. 

One, two, three leaves at a time were falling from the top, middle and bottom of this stately tree. 

Many leaves would tumble, end for end. 

Some leaves would glide, with their stems as rudders, in a long, graceful, sweeping gesture much like a paper airplane. 

Others would spiral down, again led by their rudder, to land gently in the grass. 

Watching this maple I could silently hear it exclaim, ‘Look at me, look what I can do!’, and I could almost hear it chuckle. 

I noticed I was smiling at this thought. 

I observed this sugar maple for a few minutes and then I grew sad as I knew its current story would end soon as a new chapter would be revealed. 

Winter approaches and the sugar maple’s role will adjust to the change in climate, becoming largely dormant as it recedes into the background of my memories. 

But the sugar maple is a patient soul as it waits out winters harsh spell only to emerge ever stronger next spring. 

Then, I will see this sugar maple with new eyes, eyes of knowing, that the Sugar Maple’s Tale is eternal.

–dl2, 2007