The mountain closes again another day. The last ski patrol sweeps to the bottom, and the trees begin to talk. The highest priest (and highest tree on Gold Hill), Dogwood Bark, begins the meeting. "My fellow wisewood. What have thee to offer of this brief winter day?"
"Some of the stuff those skiers wear is unbelievable," remarks a spruce from the top of Lift Four. "No offense, but I think we have enough Aspen around here."
"Forget the clothes? You're hanging out at the top. The next time I get bonked by a snowboarder, I'm dropping a branch," says a distraught conifer residing next to Village Bypass. "Look at my trunk! I'm a mess!"
"Hey, you just get bonked. Agro's are slamming into me all the time, totally out of control!" pipes up a Chair Six tree.
A sapling from just below the bridge on the chondola tries to speak but is still giggling to much to get out anything that makes sense. "Flail, ha, ha, ha; oh, aug! Hee, Hee, chunk it up, ha, ha."
"...hey, man." a Chair Nine tree speaks - quite stoned from the high mountain air. "I still say humans are right on, I think we can all get along."
"That's easy for you to say, Spruce. I don't have any leaves!" an irate aspen protests.
Dogwood raises his arms (branches, whatever) and peacefully commands order. "Seek not my children. We are the old and wise. This Western thinking..."
We interrupt this Gen X Mountainview to bring you the High Noon traffic report. We go now to Eddie Eagle.
"I'm just rolling off my wing tip around Mountain Village, and ain't nothin' going on but the rent. I'm coming over Coonskin Ridge, and it looks as if lift lines are moderate at the base of Seven. A large, sleeping dog seems to be holding up traffic on Pacific Ave. Boy, I'll tell ya. After this morning's walk of shame parade, when that guy ran into that girl, and they sort of stuck together, and like, she started choking on a Lifesaver. After all, it's not really a Lifesaver if it kills ya."
OK, Eddie, I think that will do. Now back to our program.
"...will not lead you down your path. Not that we can walk."
A very disgruntled aspen from the Jud Weibe trail shouts across the valley floor. "I'm still really pissed that someone carved a heart on me that says "R + M" What the hell is r'm? I'm scarred for life!"
"Brothers," Dogwood calms. "What will be will be. There are no precautions in this life. Mother Uncompahgre has blessed us with all the safety she could; but the humans need us. `The Giving Tree' is our Way. The humans will find balance between burning us, building with us and their basic need to breathe. Anyway, if we get that upset, all we have to do is hold our breath for a while. Mother knows, that's all it took to kill off those damn dinosaurs."