The Wooden Magi

They are magicians. They splash their vibrant colors over the tiny canvases as radically as they can. A bright yellow. A purple. A red. And so on, until the entire forest is prepared for the show.

The first act. The Pledge. The trees show off their brightly colored leafs. Each color distracting the audience from the climatic, climactic changes in temperature.

The second act. The Turn. The vibrant colors disappear. In what seems to be a day, the entire forest is completely bare. The trees expose their winter façade of bravery as they stand together. Ready. Any moment now.

A droplet of water trickles down the trunk of the main oak in the middle of the woods. The snow melts when, suddenly, a bright jade glows throughout the forest. And this, sir, this is their Prestige.

I applaud.

Although I have seen their magic trick many times, once more I am dumbfounded by the mystery and wonderment of living in the woods.

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