I feel old

The tree at the corner of the road watching over the area groaned as it tried to stretch its back.
When was the last time a citizen hugged me, complaint the giant. They all pass by in a hurry irritated by my leaf wreath. How hasty can a man be? The only one who at times pays attention to me is the stray dog peeing against me. I would love to move a few steps away from here. Believe me I am flexible enough to ground anywhere, sighed the tree as the wind startend to blow stronger.

Complaining and whining again, asked the wind.
You don't want to know how exhausting it is up in the sky, to be on the road day and night and acarrying all sorts of things. Sand from the Sahara Desert, birds too lazy to flap their wings, being cut in half by airplane traffic, not to mention the various fumes I get gassed on.
Do you think I am happy with my existence every day? At least you are base fixed while I am centuries old still plagued by ancient gods and modern humanity.
With depression at hand, it was better to remain silent before the wind turned and was overcome by a fierce howl.

Isn't age just a number, whispered the poppy blessed with a short life. Within a few days she would be dead.
It beats me, replied the beetle. All that drama about sacrifice is too much for me. I only deal with earthly matters and nothing else. With the help of the wind, it fell to the ground. The weather changed rapidly it was wiser to hide. He had no desire to get wet.

Oh Lord, said the roof gutter to the roof pan. I don't think I can hold out much longer.
You look a bit low budget, responded the tile that struggled not to slide off and didn't feel like being close and having body contact with a foreign gutter of low birth.

Hear, hear, said the barn, why are you all so discontent. Be glad you are alive and present. Do you hear me complaining under your weight? I could use a little support too, wat if I rumble of high age?

You can count on me, whispered the elderberry bush I am happy to help you out.

Slowly, the shrub's tendrils grew around the barn. Together they survived time and watched as the wind and the tree competed over who was the oldest and most miserable.
One day, the wind had had enough, and with a resounding crash, the tree fell to the ground. Uprooted and disheveled, it waited until it was chopped into pieces. It finally travelled and found a new use as firewood for an old stove who thought it wiser to keep the silence as long there was enough to fill its mouth.

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All photos are taken by me in B/W - Samsung A10