I have a habit of taking walks in the morning or afternoon. When I lived in Canada, near my home in Vancouver, there was an ocean and a beautiful trail. There, I found five trees that became my friends—my companions, or even my lovers, as I sometimes call them. Why did they become my friends and lovers?

One morning, as I was walking, I approached these trees and thought I heard a voice. I looked around and my eyes fell on the trees. I felt as though they were speaking to me, but it wasn’t an illusion. I stopped for a moment and looked at the tree I had passed by countless times before. It said to me, “Sir, are you human?” I replied, “Apparently, yes, I am human. Is there something you need?” It said, “I want to talk to you.” I said, “I’d be happy to listen to what you have to say.” It said, “Just this—I felt you were ready to listen, so I’m speaking to you.”

As soon as I started talking to it, the other trees began to speak too, saying, “We also have something to say.”

After a while, I noticed birds had gathered—sparrows and seagulls. It became lively… I sat and watched. We spoke to each other in the language of the heart.

I asked, “What do you want to say?”
They replied, “Ask, and I’ll answer.”
I said, “Give me some advice or guidance.”
The tree looked at me with a hint of disbelief and said, “You humans are such strange creatures. We envy you—you can walk, move, and create change, while we are rooted to the ground, with little freedom. But because of my age, because I’ve been here for so many years, I’ve seen many people. I’ve witnessed so many changes. I’ve lived here for at least 100 years.”

I fell deep into thought…
The tree continued, “When I grow old and dry, when you cut me down, all my stories are in my rings: how much rain fell, which way the wind blew, where the sunlight came from, which years were more humid and which were drier. All of these have stories. Only those who understand the mysteries can decipher them.”
I asked, “Who are those who understand the mysteries?”
It replied, “Anyone who has a listening ear.”

The birds chimed in…
They said, “Sir, we have a complaint about you humans. We sing for you, trying to make you happy. We want to draw your attention to how beautiful life is and share our joy with you, but you don’t listen to us. No one listens to my voice anymore—they’re always listening to the radio, watching TV, or reading the newspaper, and even then, it’s just ordinary stuff. No one comes to listen to us.”
I asked, “What do you say to humans?”
They replied, “We tell them not to be anxious.”
I said, “Well, tell me how not to be anxious? I’m anxious because I’ve migrated here and have so many problems to solve. I don’t know what my future holds.”
The bird said, “Look at me. See how beautifully I fly and sing. I have no insurance, no retirement. Every day, I have to find my own food. I have no fridge or freezer. There’s no food distribution system for me. I have to fend for myself. At night, I have to be careful that a cat or another animal doesn’t eat me. During the day, I have to watch out for attacks. My life is full of danger, fear, and hope. Yet, I sing, I fly, I raise my young. Despite the cold, the heat, the scarcity, I live. I’ve learned to sing through it all. Through my life, I’m teaching you how to live. I don’t bite my own kind. I don’t steal their food. Everyone tries to live their own path. I accept the truths of life.”
I had never thought a sparrow could teach me so much.

Another bird, a nightingale, came and said, “Why do you put me in a cage?”
I said, “Because we love you.”
It replied, “What kind of love is this that imprisons me? I shouldn’t be born in a cage and die in a cage. I should be free, and you should enjoy my freedom.”
I said, “But if we let you go, you’ll leave.”
It said, “No, my dear, we won’t leave. If you create a beautiful environment, not only will I stay, but my friends will come too. I’ll make sure that at your workplace, everyone sings for you. The orchestra of the world will sing for you. I’ll fill your world with joy and happiness. But you don’t leave any trees, any moisture, any flowers. You destroy everything to build structures. You’ve left no room for nature or for me.”
Honestly, I felt ashamed!

Another tree said, “You walk under our shade, arguing and complaining about how someone wronged you years ago. You say, ‘I need to teach them a lesson.’ We wonder why you’re ruining the present for the sake of the past. We’ve seen so much. These actions lead nowhere. Come and ask us! We’ll tell you. I’ve seen many sorrowful people sitting under my shade, wondering what to do. And we feel sorry for them, wishing we could guide them. You can walk, you have so much freedom and choice. You’ve chosen to sit under my shade. You could have gone to swim in the ocean or bask in the sun. But I can’t. If it doesn’t rain or if I can’t reach deep water, I’ll die. But you, if this place dries up, you can go somewhere moist. You can bring water to where you are. With all this freedom, why are you still hopeless? Why are you still despairing? Why do you kill each other over a morsel of food? How much do you really need to eat? How much do you really need? I’m not saying don’t grow. Grow and have everything, but remember that the most important thing is to live. You’ve abandoned the essence and clung to the trivial.”

I won’t bore you further. I realized they had so much to say. I told them, “That’s enough for today.” Honestly, I had never thought I could learn so much from them. They laughed and said, “If your receiver is tuned, the whole world is speaking to you. Even the stones. We talk to the stones, and they talk to us. The world is alive. It’s not just you. You’re part of the world.” One of the trees laughed and said, “Crow! Tell him that story.”

The crow, who had been silent until then, said with a sad tone:
“I went to a garden to eat some fruit. There were guests in the garden, eating. They told the host, ‘Your garden is so beautiful and pleasant.’ The host replied, ‘Yes, it is, but these crows have made our lives miserable.’ They asked, ‘How so?’ He said, ‘They come to the trees, eat the fruit, pluck the flowers, and make noise. They’re a nuisance.’ I asked the crow, ‘Didn’t any of the guests say anything?’ The crow said, ‘Yes, one of the guests was a wise man, perhaps a biologist or a scientist. He told the host, “As far as I know, crows have lived here for millions of years. You are the uninvited guest, not the crows. If you’ve come and taken over their land, give them their share. Don’t wipe out their species.”’”

I fell deep into thought, realizing how oblivious we are to the truths of life. But they are our guides. They all speak with their hearts and souls. We don’t listen. We’re lost in our own problems, searching for happiness in the wrong places.

From that day on, I became friends with those five trees. Believe it or not, if you see me passing by them, you’ll notice I stop, touch them, and thank them for teaching me the lessons of life, as much as I could understand.

I love the birds. I open the window to see if a bird’s song reaches me. Can I give them some seeds?

Dogs, cats, and all other creatures are part of life. The world has no charm without them. Training specialists to chase and brutally kill dogs is a terrible act. Who said we have the right to live and they don’t? They were here long before us. Are they polluted? Let’s help them not be polluted. Vaccinate them. They’re part of this life. Who said this place belongs only to me? Who said only I have the right to live, and snakes, bears, dogs, and cats don’t? We have no right to invade their space. We do these things because we’re unhappy.

Let’s remember and wake up…
Leave food for cats, dogs, and birds. When you build something, plant a tree and water it. They’re part of life. Without them, a part of your happiness is missing. They’re like our loved ones. Happy people are connected to the world—connected to all its parts. They don’t take away from these parts. If you must remove a tree, plant ten in its place so life remains balanced, so you and your children can be happy under the shade of a tree. I’m sure if you spend time in solitude, reconcile with yourself, and reflect, you’ll see there are many ways to live happily.

A story comes to mind…
My father once told me a story from his father, my grandfather, who was from a village. He said:
“They used to tell us, when you reach into a sack of wheat to transfer it to another sack, open your fingers and let some wheat fall through (as they called it, ‘let your hand spill’). I asked, ‘Why waste this wheat?’ He said, ‘It’s not wasting. The ants and birds also have a share.’ The old, genuine farmers knew this. When they harvested, they left some stalks behind and didn’t clean the field completely, leaving some for the ‘gleaners’ to come and collect. Some was also left for the birds.”

My dear friends, let your hands spill. Spend some of your money, time, and energy. Happiness lies in giving. Give, and you shall receive. Just as a farmer sows seeds to reap in spring and summer, let us also have the courage to plant so we may harvest.

With love,
Mahmoud Moazami