Sycamore Tree

I am looking at this simple yet elegant tree. Who knows how long it has been here. It's branches stretch far and wide as if to embrace its surrounding. As the breeze blows its leaves and its branches, it seems to call out to whoever is listening for them to come and join her in her embrace of the world. The clear, crisp sound of the leaves moving against each other is very comforting. How many students have she comforted as they sit here where I sit? It had rained all night and as I draw her, I could see where the branches have torn from the rain and wind. Her different shade of gray and brown trunk and branches gives her an ethereal look. As I look up to draw her, the color of the trunk and the branches gets lighter and lighter as I look up the sky. Her almost falling branches and leaves seem to indicate that the past storm had weakened her. I see a pigeon in the midst of her weakness comforting her. Drawing her leaves is a little challenging since they are mostly clumped together in groups as if they have found comfort in each other during the storm. Some of the leaves are dying and some are dead. I draw them as well. The leaves could stand the storm, which they have probably done in the past but nothing can stand the Texas heat. This is probably why they died.