It was a shivery autumn evening and my eyes were focused on the tall tree centered in a considerable field at the rear of my house. I had never really looked at it properly until today, the branches swaying in the blustery breeze making the leaves float angelically to the ground. The tree was decrepit, it had been there all my life, I remember my older brother climbing it in the summer once, breaking his wrist in the attempt! I thought about how the tree changed throughout the seasons… Autumn was my favourite, mainly because watching the leaves slowly changing from green to orange fascinated me. I felt sorry for the tree in winter though… it appeared so bare and lonely, snow landing on the branches making it look undoubtedly fragile. I wondered how much time it would take to count the rings of the tree if it was ever to be chopped down.