I wake up in the morning and open the front door. The trees are all there where I left them yesterday. They are all standing still and the branches and leaves wink at me and seem to tell me " welcome to our world"

The mango tree looks like a wet mother chicken, sitting on its chicks with some of the chicks protruding their heads above her wings.

Several trees have been growing under the mango tree and, in search of sunlight, have grown right through the mango tree branches and have formed another canopy above the mango tree.

Some twenty or so meters on the left of the mango tree, there is a Mutundu tree with it's green canopy of leaves and branches with several other trees which have gone right through its green canopy of leaves and branches in search of light.

I take a breath of fresh air and go back in the house to sort out my breakfast and other associated early morning activities.

Since my mother came back from Nairobi, I have made it a point of visiting her every morning just to make sure that she has not joined her ancestors.

You see , she is over a hundred years old and over the last fifteen or so years she has been suffering from old age associated maladies.

Yesterday during the day there was a very heavy rain downpour accompinied by strong wind blowing from West to East.The rain and wind continued thoughtout the 🌃 night.

During the night I was worried that the trees surrounding my house would break their branches which could fall on the roof of the house. I like trees and I am not going to cut any of them despite the fact that they are too near the house.

If any of the branches fall on the house, I shall treat the event as collateral damage.
I walk towards my mother's household which which is about a half kilometer away from my place.

As I turn right along the straight path that goes through the tree.l stop suddenly.l see the path is blocked by something dark.l'm short sighted.

I adjust my specks to ensure that I'm seeing properly.Sure enough the path is blocked by something.Curiosity kills me.l walk straight along the path and sure enough the path is blocked by nothing but tree branches and their leaves

So,our beloved tree, which has been growing right in the middle of the shamba,has fallen down.ln the process of falling it came down breaking all the other small trees and their branches.How come l didn't hear it falling?.

With that rainstorm and the thundering accompanying it last night,how could I,l answered myself.I Stood there looking at the mess.l have been telling all and sundry that"our place" is the only place you can find this indigenous tree.

All the other trees of it's size have been cut down.The last old and big tree of it's kind was cut down when the Embu-Meru road was being tarmacked near Kiagima Primary School.To widen the road, the tree had to go.

The tree at our place has gone naturally.How can l blame nature? The tree is called Mururi (Trichilla emetica) and in our tradition, it is a ceremonial and a sacred tree because it's back and seeds produces the red-brown dye used to

decorate ornaments.The timber has a beautiful brown pink colour.Now that our tree has died,it will be recycled by the ecosystem, providing energy and nutrients for living creatures.Someone will come and make timber from the stem.

Women will come and get firewood from the branches.It's beautiful flowers,leaves,small twigs and root will dry up and be decomposed my detritivores, organisms that recycle detritus and be converted to elements that form the soil.

Is that not what happens to all living organisms when they die, including the human beings (Homo Sapiens)? I asked myself.