What do trees think about when they die?

I don't suppose they enjoy the process any more than we do. When they get older and first start losing their leaves and having bare branches, do they sigh and wearily accept their fate? Do they contemplate their existence at all? 

"It's ending, Frank. It's all ending. I can feel it in my roots. My branches are withering and dying. I'm dying, Frank." 

"No, it's not ending. Just beginning in another dimension. That is all. From dream to dream, wakefulness to sleep, spring to winter, life to death over and over. When you watch TV, there's 24 hour programming. You stop watching sometimes and go to sleep or get something to eat or go for a walk.

"Well, not if you're a tree, I guess. You have to just sit there and take it. Day in and day out. Whatever goes on around you, you can't just up and leave. You have a commitment to this patch of land. As the land goes, so goes the tree. And vice versa, too. You know, a good tree can really set off a landscape. Posing there all majestic and shit." 

Frank rambled on.  Frank was always full of comforting words. He always had so much to say on any given topic. He was a giant oak. He'd been around. He'd seen a lot of shit. Seen a lot of other trees go down. 

Hell, he'd choked out quite a few himself, with his massive, light hogging canopy. No regrets, as far as any of that goes. He was a monarch. Overlord of the landscape, he was a perpetual presence throughout many generations, and so had time to wax philosophical. 

I've always been more of a pessimist. And a real coward. I'm afraid of the wind. Afraid of fires, but afraid of too much rain since it makes my roots tend to loosen up too much in the soil. That's a real falling risk at my age, for a tree of my particular development and stature. 

I don't like it too dry either, of course. That's a given, as a tree. Many trees do not get to become trees because they don't have the opportunities that I had, coming up. Those were the good years. Always enough water, it seemed to be there with punctuality in an endless, bountiful amount. 

I'd hate to be a fresh acorn right about now. Even the little bushes had better watch their back. One little fire and "Poof" you are gone, buddy. I'm gonna write a book one day. Teach you little acorns how to survive. Someone's gotta say what needs to be said, so that at least the younger generation doesn't repeat our same mistakes. Mainly, not living up to our potential. That's one of the main regrets of any sort of being, trees no less. 

We care too much. That's why we are sensitive to things going on in our nearby environment. This can extend out quite a bit. When something affects one of us nearby, it also effects us, since we transmit that shit through the airwaves. 

You should see the rumors that get started, one tree to another. Pretty soon the whole valley is affected or the next ridge. I'd say the whole Sierra Nevada Mountains have all fallen under the spell of this one fear-mongering death cultist. Unnamed and unknown as he is, he is still doing immeasurable damage. 

A lot of trees nowadays are simply opting out of life itself because it just seems so futile, refusing to come back in the spring, ceasing leaf production, in a kind of seasonal suicide. Everything dies, even the perennial oak. 

Anyway, suicide is a reasonable thought which lots of trees entertain these days. It gets too hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Why are we putting ourselves through this year after year? So that a few humans can comment every decade or so, "Oh, what a wonderful tree." 

Please. I mean, the birds, yes. Sure, they need us. I mean, the bushes, how're they even gonna come close to what we do for the birds, all close to the ground and shit. Not even conducive to bird survival. Good way to get eaten by a cat, living down there in the bushes. Fuckin' bushes, anyhow.

Oh, and another thing about trees. We're extremely wordy at times. I mean, for God's sake don't get one started or they will never shut up. The places they've been (nowhere) and the people they've seen (ok, not that many lately, but over the years...) 

Well, I can tell you, we keep track. We aren't going to be caught unaware of anything going on around us. You can't sneak up on a tree, no siree. I'm tellin' ya. And that's why we won't shut up once we get to talkin'. The places we been...

Oh, did I mention that although we remember like, a million things, still we forget that we've told that story, also a million times. Poor conversationalists, us trees. It's all rather one sided. It's easy to see why trees are so narrow-minded. Lacking mobility, we have a fixed perspective. And you know how it is having to get all of your information about the world by word of branch.