Street Machine



THERE was an old man who lived by a forest. As he grew older, he started losing his hair, and by the time he was on his deathbed, he was completely bald. Knowing his time was short, he called his children to his bedside.

“Look at my hair,” he said. “It used to be so magnificen­t, but it’s completely gone now. My hair can’t be saved, but look outside at the forest. So many beautiful trees, but sooner or later they’ll all be cut down and this forest will look as bald as my hair.

“So, every time a tree is cut down or dies, I want you all to plant a new one in my memory. Tell your descendant­s to do the same. It shall be our family’s duty to keep this forest strong.”

So each time the forest lost a tree, the children replanted one, and so did their children, and their children after them.

And for centuries now, the forest has remained as lush as ever – all because of one man and his re-seeding heirline.

Russell Ingleaves, email

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia