It believed in the afterlife. It gave them life.

1

My orchard is a gardener’s dream, surreal like abstract art, so beautiful that I dare not wake up if it was one. Having such a dream is a merit, an embodiment of Eden.

I was preparing my garden for spring, which is nesting season. The circle of life should continue. I cannot abet nature’s plans; no one can.

I had developed a particular liking for a small tree. A lemon tree; well potted, watered, and pruned. I like this tree, because the rest of the garden bed was flowering trees, bushes and creepers.

‘Did you water the plants?’ my wife reminded me.

‘Done that.’ I said disconnecting the soaker hose of the pipe. 

I wear my garden gloves and pick up my pruning shears.

‘I’am clearing the debris.’

As I do what I was supposed to do, I observe something dull. A closer look revealed what was camouflaged behind the leaves. I was scared to touch the rough surface. The chrysalis might break, and God forbid, kill the hidden transformation happening inside.

I counted, and there were five.

I showed the evident spectacle to my wife. At the same time, I was glad that my lemon tree hosted it.

‘The tree is legendary’, she said.

‘It was my grandfather’s gift. He planted this on his 90th birthday.’

‘It should be special,’ she said.

‘He was a freedom fighter and a gentleman. A life toughened and percolated by the hardships of the day, and yet, developing the finesse of a trapeze artist,’ he said.

‘Wow.’

‘The day he gave me this plant, he whispered something in my ear – I give you life.’ he said.

‘I believe, it’s his spirit that the plant carries. I sometimes sense it.’

‘Maybe it’s his afterlife.’ she said, touching the tree.

‘But, the tree definitely has lost its charm. I see it withering. Dying slowly. I’am afraid it might not last one more year. It’s lived its life span.’

2

Three weeks later, I see red admirals flapping their wings. Fine beings that bring great assurance to the onlookers that paradise does exist.

I rushed out to meet them, and I believe it didn’t scare them either.

As we were rejoicing in each other’s company, I glanced at the lemon tree.

It has stood on its ground, but, I can see traces of its losing pallor.

In two days, I see that only a few withering branches remain. I treat it with the best of what I could possibly do. But, I fear I will fail.

Maybe my grandfather might not have another lease of life. I was saddened by the thought.

I saw a red admiral sharing my thoughts, and it sat on a near drying twig of the lemon tree, maybe, I think to myself, whispering something to the lemon tree.

I just smiled at that thought, because I was ready to face the new truth. My tree would never live.

3

The next day, as I decide to dispose of my favorite tree, I observe something beautiful and welcoming.

A small protrusion of a bright green leaf has just emerged on my tree.

I think to myself – It is the afterlife.