The frost curled its biting sting around me, causing me to shiver, for I had not known a cold snap like it. My neighbours are dead, neither could survive the freezing drop in temperature. I am brittle and worried that I might not survive, as the earth around me is hard and impacted. But, beneath me, I feel the stirrings of life, roots spreading far and wide. Dawn is breaking and the sky is tinged with a burnt orange glow. Maybe today, there will be a glimmer of low sun, just enough to help me thaw out. I am determined to cling on. I can feel a shift in the changing air, so not long now. The day quickly turned to night again, and with it came a cruel, biting fierce wind. It almost ripped me from the ground. A fox came by, stopped for a while. His tail swished this way and that. He rummaged around, but the earth was even too hard for him. He was hungry, his thin body in need of food. I hoped he found something, as he looked tired. There is something so rewarding about shedding one's self, allowing for a renewal of energy to bring forth new life. That is why I will endure the sting of the cold on my bare self. I will stay rooted to the spot, waiting, waiting, waiting, for the revival of a new me. The air was tinged with hope. I slept for a while, letting the last of me shrivel and drop. To be scattered around. In time, they will decompose and feed the soil, which in turn will nourish me. Maybe when I wake up, things will be better.
I have awoken to the sound of a blackbird singing the most enchanting song, its sweet chirrups calling out to a mate. I can taste something: dew, the fresh crispness is like nectar. The ground is soft too. I stretch and it feels comfortable. Fox is back, looking fuller, shinier. He is nuzzling around in the soil. A juicy worm is his prize, gulping it down in one, then licking his lips. He marks his scent. I don't mind, I am accustomed to the musky smell, and off he trots. The sun is rising, its warmth a teaser of what's to come. I turn myself to face it, feeling the start of new growth. Tiny shoots emerging, bright green and delicate, feeling their way out. I let out a sigh, I have made it through. Spring is just around the corner. I am bursting with a new energy, as every day a new bit of me spurts forth. I have grown in inches too, I am no longer squat, in fact I am almost as tall as Olive. I am resplendent, and Twisty Baby Locust is my name. A tree with new life.
