Russell Rustle

It is springtime, Russell’s favorite time of year. Russell is a large oak tree who lives in a
playground near a school. He can see most everything because he towers above the other
trees.
He stretched and waved his enormous branches in the cool, refreshing wind,
enjoying the bright, warm sunshine. Russell had slept all winter long and had just
awakened to resume growing and to enjoy the wonders of the coming seasons. Looking
around the playground he spotted his old friend Tom, the grounds keeper, walking about
picking up litter, pulling weeds and doing other springtime chores.
Birds darted from tree to tree trying to select an ideal spot for a summer home. He
noticed a fine-looking robin flying his way. A smile stretched across his face as he
realized he would meet his first new friend for the year. The robin flitted in and around
his crown of boughs, perched on Russell’s nose, and sang loudly, “Hello, my name is
Gale”.
He sang back, “Hello, yourself. I’m Russell. Take a branch and rest a while, you
look tired.”
“I think I will,” she chirped. “Say I am looking for a good spot to build my nest.”
“Feel free to look around. My upper branches feature a view that’s top notch. And
after my buds turn to leaves, my canopy will provide shade a-plenty for your hatchlings
to come.” He boasted, “Make yourself at home.”
Gale thanked him and, and after minutes of hopping from limb to branch and
branch to limb, found just the right spot, heaved a great sigh and – swoosh—glided down
to the ground to search for strings and things.
Russell gazed about at all the springtime activity. A magpie on a telephone wire
squawked longingly for a mate. A determined bee buzzed among the crocus and tulip
plants in search of some early flowers. Two squirrels zigged and zagged across the grass
and tumbled over each other in a scuffle over a peanut buried there last fall.
Russell’s eyes rested on the grounds keeper Tom watering some annuals he has
just planted. “Ahhh, after such a long winter, a tree like me could sure use a refreshing
drink,” he thought to himself. Just then Tom stretched up and with purposeful strides
passed under his branches. Russell shook one limb over Tom’s head. BONK! Dropped a
little dried up wasps nest.
Tom looked up and rubbing his head. “Hi, big fella,” he said. “Don’t worry, I
haven’t forgotten you. I’ll fetch the watering hose.”
Gale giggled, watching Russell and Tom. “Does he always take that from you?”
“We go way, way back,” Russell replied. “Tom cut the sod and planted me here
years ago. Quit procrastinating, and I’ll tell you how it all came about while you build
your nest.”
“Yay, that will put some fun in my work that has to be done.” Sang Gale.
Russell gazed about the neighborhood, collecting his thoughts. He looked down to
find Tom watering the soil around his tremendous trunk. “Aaah,” he groaned to himself.
Gale who was flittering back and forth gathering materials, chirped, tongue – in -
beak, “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”
“No. Just wondering… where do I start?”
“May I suggest from the beginning, blockhead?”
 “Well,” Russell began, “the first home I remember was a bright, humid place
called a greenhouse.”
“You have had more than one home?” Gale interrupted
“Yes three as I can re25member,” Russell continued. “When I was just a seedling
I was one of hundreds of little trees of different kinds, all lined up in growing trays.
Dozens of people, like Tom, cared for us, watering, fertilizing, making sure we received
the proper amount of light and love.” Russell noticed that a few more friends had
gathered to listen to his story. Two squirrels scurried over his massive roots and a
humongously hairy moth with bumps on his head landed on one of his budding leaves.
“Mmmmm, go on,” urged Gale, her beak holding a worm scooped up from the
spray of Tom’s hose.
The worm, seizing the opportunity, wiggled free, fell onto the dirt and inched
underground. “Didn’t your parents tell you to never talk with your mouth full?” he
shouted back at the top of his wee lungs and slipped underground.
“I was so content at the greenhouse that I grew very quickly,” continued Russell,
trying to talk over the flapping temper tantrum Gale was undergoing down below. “One
day our tray was picked up, whisked into the open air onto a flatbed truck and driven out
to a big field of trees called a nursery. This was to be my second home. After we were all
carefully planted and watered, I felt something brush past my little boughs.” Russell was
pleased to see all his friends had stopped their activity and were listening closely.
‘“Welcome to the nursery, my little friend,’ greeted my neighbor, a much larger
tree. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You will be well cared for in your new home. My name is
Jack. What’s yours?’”
“I looked around in amazement,” Russell continued. “There were hundreds of
trees, much larger than at the greenhouse, and they were being taken care of by many
people. But I was very surprised by my new friend’s question. ‘My name?’ I replied. ‘ I
don’t know, I don’t have a name.’”
“’You are an oak tree, young fella,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll name you Russell.’”
“’Okay,’” I agreed, ‘but why do you call me Russell?’”
“Jack was tall and thin and he laughed down at me. ‘Your leaves turn color in the
fall and then dry up and fall to the ground. That’s when the cool wind blows and makes
them rustle. That’s why I named you Russell.’”
“I giggled and then asked him why his name was Jack. I knew I was asking too
many questions of a new friend, but he seemed like a polite fellow.”
“’Well son, you do have a lot of questions, but I can easily answer that one. My
name is Jack because I am a jack pine. I am a type of tree that is called evergreen or
conifer. That means we don’t drop our needles during winter. Russell, you are a
deciduous tree, meaning you drop your leaves and sleep through the winter.’”
Russell paused and looked around at all his friends who had gathered to hear his
story. “Go on,” blurted the hairy moth. “Tell us more.”
“Jack and I became very good friends,” continued Russell. “But one day I awoke
to a strange sight and a thundering noise. I watched a huge watering truck rumbling down
the row of trees. Many trees had colored ribbons on them blowing in the wind. “What’s
happening to us?”
 “Jack calmed me down. ‘Many times a year, trees are picked to go to many
different places,’ he said. ‘Sometimes they go to replenish a forest. Some go to new
neighborhoods and city parks.’”
“Aren’t you scared?” I asked.
“’Not really,’ said Jack. ‘Only trees marked by ribbons are due for transplant. I don’t
have a ribbon and neither do you.’ We both watched as tree spades dug up our friends,
wrapped them up in wire cages or burlap. Then a large truck with a boom lifted them
gently and drove away. We were not frightened because we knew they would all find
new homes.”
“It was a week later and I awoke as usual. I looked over at my friend Jack. He had
a ribbon tied on him. “’Oh, no! Jack wake up!’ I shouted.”
“Jack awoke. He saw his ribbon and then pointed that I had one on also. I don’t
mind admitting that I was terrified. Jack, on the other hand, was not upset at all. He told
me to relax. We were to be moved that very day and Jack told me I would like my new
home very much. But I was still scared.”
“Well the moving machines came and we watched as all the trees with ribbons,
including Jack and me, were watered and dug up. Our roots came up in big balls of earth
which were then wrapped in burlap. Jack was taken away first by a big tree spade which
opened itself up, backed around Jack and raised him high above his shiny trunk. He
waved to me as he was driven away. ‘So long, young fella,’ ha called, leaving me in the
dust. I waved back, sad to loose such a good friend.
Russell looked around at all his friends who were also sad that he had lost his
friend. “Do tell us what happened next,” they pleaded
“Well, I was feeling a little sorry for myself at that point,” he continued, “but just
then I saw another truck stop right in front of me. Two me got out, lifted me into the back
of the truck and covered me in a large tarpaulin so I Couldn’t see anything else. It was so
dark as I bounced along, and I wondered where they were taking me. Finally the truck
stopped and I lay there listening to some noises coming closer and closer and louder.”
“What was it?” sang out Gale, the robin.
“I wasn’t sure myself for a while,” explained Russell. “But as they came closer I
recognized the voices and laughter of little children. Then I heard an older voice telling
the children to sit on the grass and listen carefully. How I wish I could sneak a peek to
see what they were all doing.”
“The voice was that of the teacher of the school children and she said, ‘Class, we
are here for a very special occasion. Our caretaker, Tom, has worked hard and prepared a
new home for a new friend. Tom, will you please come and introduce our new friend?”
Russell paused and looked at all who were listening. No one moved. They
watched him intently. “Continue, continue,” chirped Gale.
Russell looked down with a smile. “Yea, I will. Where was I?”
“You wanted to sneak a peek,” replied one of the squirrels.
Russell went on. “Whoosh!! All of a sudden off came the tarp and Tom said to the
children, ‘This is an oak tree!’”
“Wow! It was me they were looking at. I was the star! All the children were
starring at me in amazement, smiles everywhere. Tom lifter me carefully out of the truck
and placed me gently into the big hole he had dug. I was finally in my new home – my
third home – where I am now standing. Tom watered me and fertilized me, all the while
answering the many questions of the children. They asked, where do trees come from?
Why do we need trees? How do you take care of trees? What can we do to help? Finally
they all went away and left me in my new home.”
“Did you like your new home?” Gale asked.
“I was starting to feel very at home in the school yard,” answered Russell. “But
then I had another wonderful surprise when I heard a familiar voice right beside me. ‘Hi,
my old friend,’ said the voice.”
“I gazed up and there was Jack, the pine tree, standing tall, looking down on me.”
“How…? What…? Why…?” I exclaimed
“’Still the same old Russell, asking so many questions,’ laughed Jack. ‘I was
planted here just before you were. We are both here to help create a nice playground for
the school.’”
“Jack and I talked till late that night. We were together again, just like old times.”
The animals noticed then that Russell had a sad sound to his voice.
Gale spoke quietly. “Russell, we can’t help notice there is no huge pine tree
beside you now. Where is Jack?”
Russell took a deep breath and slowly started to speak again. “We often had many
children running and jumping about. Tom took very good care of us but some of the
children didn’t know they could hurt us. They climbed roughly on Jack’s branches,
swinging carelessly. They whacked Jack many times with hockey sticks during recess.
They took small penknives and carved names into his trunk. Over the summers they
damaged Jack so much he could not repair himself. Finally he just died.”
“Oh no,” cried Russell’s friends. “How sad!”
“I remember how sad Tom looked as he cut him down,” said Russell sorrowfully.
“I also remember that he picked up one of Jack’s cones, and carefully put it in his pocket.
Now, and ever since that day, Tom works very hard tying to make everyone understand
that each of us has a part in helping mother nature protect all trees, big and small. Every
Arbor day Tom plants many types of trees for our playground.”
Russell paused and looked around at his friends. “And now I have a surprise for
you all. Do you remember me telling you that when Jack died, caretaker Tom carefully
saved one of his pinecones? Well, from that pinecone Tom was able to start a new
seedling. Here comes Tom now!”
Everyone watched in amazement as Tom walked over carrying a small tree which
he carefully placed in a freshly dug and watered hole right beside Russell. Then Russell
proudly announced, “I would like you all to meet my new friend, Jack Jr.”
The little tree looked up at Russell and boldly asked, “Where am I? Why am I
here? Why do you call me Jack Jr.?”
Russell chuckling peered down at the little pine tree. “Well, little fella, you
certainly ask a lot of questions. You remind me of someone I know. I have a story to tell
you, but where do I start?”
“From the beginning, please,” said Jack Jr.
The robin, the squirrels and the moth laughed as they flew and scurried away.
They were thinking about the story that Russell would tell once again to his new little
friend.