Օգոստոսի յոթերորդը երկու հազար տասնութ ...

Today is Tuesday, the 7th of August 2018.

I went to the woods last night.

Or did I go to the forest?

Maybe it is not political correct to call a forest 'the woods' because the phrase 'wood' would reduce all trees to its' role as raw material or resource for the good of mankind.

So I went to the forest last night and I talked to the trees. They are not happy. They are thirsty and crying out for water.

It's too hot, the old oak said.

What have you done, you human vermin, the pine tree asked.

We don't want a Hot Age, the beech tree proclaimed.

Some of us hardly survived the Ice Age, you morons, the redwood tree cried out.

What can I do, I asked myself and all the long gone natural spirits around me.

Dance, the banshee screamed, dance your magical rain dance, you two-legged pinky-skin.

But all I heard was…

How much wood would a wood chop chop if a wood chop could chop wood?

And always remember… Trees are people, too…