heat flow

sir, can you hear us? sir? sir? hello, can you hear us?

sir, this is the morning sun shining through the leaves of a deciduous forest on a summer morning. sir? are you with us? we need you to breathe. breathe sir. breathe. there. good. ok. sir, you’ve been involved in a trip, a bad trip. the trip is about how you think certain people are trying to harm you. but they aren’t. you’re tripping, it’s not what they are trying to do. stop tripping. breathe. you’re here, right now, in the forest. and all of us leaves are glowing green for you, and if you would just stop flipping out and knee jerking you’ll be able to calmly figure out what’s really going on. just as the sun makes us leaves glow that warm green color that you’re finally appreciating, yes, now you see us. there. uh oh. ma’am?

ma’am, hello? can you hear us ma’am? we are the morning glory flowers hanging off the telephone pole right outside your apartment, and we are the bumblebees in those morning glories that you barely notice on your way to and from work, that your daughter calls blazing purple stars with the fat bees. ma’am? stop. stop reaching for your phone. hello can you hear us? breathe. we need you to breathe. there. ok, good. you, ma’am, you were on a trip, a bad trip about something your boyfriend said to you last week, and you’ve been tripping on it all this time, and it’s caused you to lash out at your daughter and be angry, and ma’am, yes, it’s just a trip, because the reasons why he said it are not what you think and you’ve been wrong about it all week. so please, breathe ma’am. stop having the wrong idea. you’re here now. breathe. it’s ok. can you forgive him? we’ll be here too, blazing and buzzing for you and your daughter. dude?

dude. hey. can you hear us? hello? we are the two oak trees you pass under back and forth, to and fro, wherever you’re going, in your tesla model s p100d. we’re both 60 years old. who’s canopies tower over your newly designed and built mansion. we appreciate that your architect decided to spare us. dude, if you’ll listen for just one second, uh, yep you can stop with the texting. we are the living beings who’s oxygen flows into your bedroom’s open windows. that you breathe all night as you’re sleeping and when you get up to go on your 10 mile run at 5am. dude. hello, yes, you’re already a millionaire at age 26. yes, we are happy for your success. but, you’ve been on this trip. you bought hard into the whole man is an island thing, thinking that’s what makes you such a stud. but, that’s a delusion, a cognitive impairment on your part. you can stop tripping now. if you weren’t breathing our oxygen, how would you even be alive when the alarm goes off? how? you’re never completely independent of this earth, there is context for your words and actions. as in, we are the trees who help you to breathe and be alive. and did we mention the tiny organisms living in your gut? without whom you would be small and runty, possibly unhealthy? unable to run for 10 miles most mornings, all the while carrying on about how you’re all alone and nothing else matters? us trees, we’ll be here for you, doing our thing, turning your exhaled carbon dioxide into inhaled oxygen. oops, excuse us. admiral?

admiral? are you with us? there. ok. yes. we, we are the barnacles that just attached to the hull of your new flagship destroyer, which has been tied up dockside for months now. thank you for the smooth gray paradise, we’ll be here for you filtering the water so the clams in your clam chowder are healthy too. admiral, hello. hello? yes, breathe. breathe. have you heard the cherokee proverb about the boy who asked his grandfather which wolf would win in a fight between the good wolf and the bad wolf? and how the grandfather said “the wolf you feed”?