At a point, the tree began to wail, its green turned a sudden pale. The tree thought in sorrow, "I can't enjoy my own shade." So, all its leaves began to fade. One by one, all the leaves shed, and every man under it fled! This was its autumn. By the brink of autumn, the tree will know the irony, "Man craves for respite, from the golden sun, for my bower. I'm open to sunlight, and the celestial shower. I take what nature offers me." As this realisation dawns, flowers bloom over its mighty arms. The green returns, so does the spring. Again, the tree would be a beautiful thing! On autumn and spring!
