There was a tree.
A tree without leaves, not dead, but with many needles.
Not for pricking but to protect itself against acid rain and scorching sun.
A tall tree which radiated an imperturbable calm in summer and winter.
Deeply rooted in the earth and high risen to the sky.
There was another tree.
Completely different. Even the bark indeed playfully spotted black and white.
And it wore leaves that played constantly moving with the sunrays.
As soon as the short summer was over, the leaves turned yellow and brown.
Even before the first frost, they sailed away, as there had never been a green time.
Before the memory of summer faded in the mist of yesterday, the first buds sprouted again.
Tender green leaves made their way out of them.
One day the sky darkened and there was a heavy storm.
With a load roar, it swept through the forest, uprooted shrubs and trees.
After days of fury it disappeared as sudden as if it had been only a mirage.
Completely ruined it left the forest.
Barely a tree that had not been affected. Most of them were lacking branches or they were even uprooted.
But in the middle of the forest they stood. The two trees.
The one with the needles and the other one with the black and white bark.
One of them still looked upright at the sky, the other still with the ever-moving leaves.
It was a mystery how the two trees survived the storm unscathed.
This event entered history. All sorts of legends were told about the two trees.
Later, indeed much later, the reason was found.
Excavations showed that each of the two trees had formed a particularly strong root
and stretched this over to the other tree. Where the two roots met, they were woven
tightly into each other and gave each other support, hold and help.
Some people said that this would be a mood of nature.
Others made the God/the gods responsible for it.
Only the very old and wise ones in the village told that it was just love.