A Parable

The experiment was a shambles.

"We'll just have to let God sort it out," said the Professor.  I laughed.

"What's so funny?" He was looking at me with an expression I didn't recognize.

I stammered, "Well, it was just... funny, I guess. I mean, you're a scientist, and... uhm..."

"And I shouldn't be calling on God, is that what you mean?"

"Well... it was a joke... right?" Nobody seriously believed in those dusty old myths anymore, did they?

"It's because of my studies that I believe in God," he began. "What do you think sets Man apart from the animals? Intelligence? Tool usage? Language? Nothing? When I was an atheist, all of those were reasonable answers. Then I realized that all other animals, though they lack intelligence, are born with a great deal of knowledge. Animals do complex things... amazing things for which there's no easy explanation, and we wave a hand and call it instinct. No one teaches the tailor-bird how to weave, or why. No one tells a sparrow where or when to migrate. No one teaches a bear to hibernate. No one teaches an ant how to build a city. On the whole, animals are not self-destructive; they do not wage war (except maybe some of those ants). They know their place in the world. They're born stupid, but wise.

"We humans are entirely different. By comparison we're brilliantly intelligent, but we're born completely ignorant. Why, we can barely procreate without someone more experienced to teach us how. Archaeology reveals that we started with nothing, and what learning we have survives only so long as we tell others. And we have to work very hard for that information. Numerous times we gained astonishing insights, only to lose them in a generation. How do you build a pyramid? I don't know either. You'd think we'd be smart enough to just look at one and see; but we're not. And it seems to me sometimes that the more we learn, the more we lose. Even as we put men in orbit, we kill our progeny and deny our true nature. We seem destined not only to be born ignorant, but to remain that way. Understanding this opened my mind to belief in God."

I cocked my head in confusion. The Professor noticed, and smiled kindly.

"Oh, don't you see, boy? What more fitting punishment could there be for a people who stole from the Tree of Knowledge?"

---

Photo of Magnolia Plantation & Gardens by F. Everett Leigh

A Story with a Morel

This is a rare "Tree Fable" that has no trees per se. Neither was it inspired by a photograph from my brother Everett. Rather, a friend of mine, Diane, posted the joke contained in the first paragraph. I took it from there. I'll add some illustrations later.

A mushroom walked into a tavern. The keeper yelled, "We don't serve mushrooms! Get out!" "What's the matter?" the mushroom replied, feeling hurt. "I'm a fungi."

But the keeper insisted, so he left.

He went to an all night restaurant where he sat at the counter on a toed stool. A female fungus walked in. She'd been kicked out of the same tavern. He took a lichen to her and asked her to join him.

As they left he gave some money to a young street urchin. She was impressed with his generosity, but he explained that once he was spore and knew how it felt.

As they were both morel individuals, I moss tell you they grew close very quickly, practically overnight. They went sailing together, to Port Obello.

They did kind things for one another, and seemed to be no truffle at all.  Eventually, he gave her a beautiful fairy ring and asked her to marry him. She said yes.

One day, as they were walking, they passed by the same tavern they'd been kicked out of. They decided to invite the keeper to their wedding, as he'd been instrumental in getting the two of them together.

As they walked in the door, the keeper shouted, "For peat's sake, didn't I tell you two we don't serve mushrooms! GET OUT!"

So they eloped.