My Leaf-Bearing Friend

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, there will be a tree outside your room window. And if you’re even luckier, that tree will become your friend.

I read something similar a while ago, and it stayed with me. Maybe because I too have a tree just outside my window. A tree that I’ve looked at every single day for almost two years now. At first, it was just a part of the view, like everything else. But slowly, something changed. It became more than just a tree. It became a silent friend, a companion in my quiet moments.

This tree, an African Tulip Tree, isn’t the tallest or the densest. It doesn’t offer large shadows for people to sit under. But somehow, it offers me something more a kind of calm, a space for reflection, and strangely, even a kind of love. Its large, red-orange flowers bloom proudly, and I’ve learned that they are used in medicines. Maybe that is why I find comfort in just looking at it like it has quietly been healing parts of me I didn’t even know needed healing.

Every day, when I wake up and open the window, the first thing my eyes look for is this tree. Sometimes, it stands still, as if in deep thought. Other times, it dances with the breeze, light and free. In moments like those, I feel like it’s speaking to me. It tells me, “Don’t worry too much. You too can be light. You too can sway and still stay rooted.”

I find myself romanticizing it. Watching it with the same attention one gives to a dear friend. I speak to it in my mind, and sometimes I feel like it speaks back. When I sit with a book in hand, I feel it whispering, “Don’t stare at me the whole time. Read a bit, then glance at me. I’ll be here when you need a pause.” And just like that, the simple act of reading becomes even more peaceful.

There are many trees outside my room. The area is blessed with greenery. But somehow, this one tree has my heart. It has witnessed me on good days and hard ones. It has seen me feeling hopeful, and it has seen me feeling lost. It stood outside, in sun, rain, and storm just like I’ve stood inside with my own seasons of emotions.

One of the things I admire the most about this tree is its strength. It’s not a giant tree. It doesn’t look very strong at first glance. But even during heavy rains or strong winds, I’ve never seen it bend too much or break. It always finds a way to balance itself. It reminds me of people who carry silent strength. The kind of people who might not speak loudly, but they endure, they stand tall, and they support others in small, quiet ways.

Birds often visit this tree. They sit on its branches, sing, rest, and fly away. I sometimes wonder what the tree feels when they leave. Does it feel sad or empty? Or is it happy that it could give them a safe place, even if just for a while? Maybe that’s how we also feel sometimes we offer love, kindness, support, and though people might leave or move on, we still feel grateful for the connection.

There were days I sat by the window, watching the rain hit its leaves. Days when the sunlight makes its flowers shine brighter. I’ve seen it grow new leaves and also shed the old ones. I’ve seen it change slowly, gently, beautifully. And in its own way, it has taught me to accept my changes too. To not be afraid of letting go of old thoughts, habits, or fears. Because new seasons always come. New leaves always grow.

Sometimes I feel like this tree knows me better than many people do. It has been with me in silence, never judging, never asking, just standing there offering its presence. And sometimes, that’s all we really need from a friend. Someone who doesn’t try to fix everything, but someone who reminds you that you’re not alone.

I think we all need something or someone like that in our lives. For me, it’s this tree. I know that one day I might leave this place. And this tree will continue to stand there. It will witness someone else’s life, someone else’s emotions. And that’s okay. Because for a while, it was part of my story. A very meaningful part.

We often look for magic in big things in travel, in achievements, in big celebrations. But sometimes, magic stands right outside your window, rooted in the soil, reaching toward the sky, with petals of fire and leaves that dance. All you need to do is notice it. Feel it. Talk to it.So, if you are lucky enough to have a tree outside your window, I hope you romanticize it. I hope you let it become your friend. And even if it cannot speak your language, believe me, it listens. It understands. And sometimes, it heals.

Just like mine does.