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A tree that reaches into the sky was named Sunset because it always set in the west. One summer, a boy climbed it to the top and looked around. But not with his eyes. He looked around with his tongue.

The boy's name was Buddy. He was hiking through the forest with his father. His father was collecting leaves, pods, and flower buds for a college botany class. Buddy was collecting honey and humming. He was a hummingbird. Plump with nectar. He had a favorite tree and was very interested in finding out what was at the top of it.

But what he found was not what he was looking for. He found a planet

But there was no planet at the top of the tree. There was only a hollow space with an empty sky. In the middle of the space was another of the trees. This tree stretched far away. It was the tall oak that neighbored the berry bushes and the weedy field where the crows gathered.

Buddy's fingers were fat and round at the ends. The pads of his fingers were more wrinkly than what you would expect. His fingers were stretched out to touch the thick branches of the oak. Behind him was his father. His father called to him. He was following him to find what was at the top of the tree. He wanted to see something. What was it?

His father called from behind him. "Buddy! Buddy, come down from there.

Buddy was a hummingbird whose wings had been cut off. But not now. He was hoisting himself up the tree and stretching his limbs out like a pole dancer. His body was fat and round and covered in tiny feathers. He was sticking his fingers in the air and waving his green feet. His father was a tall thin man in a pink shirt with a green cap.

"I think I see something." Buddy said with a voice like a soft flower that never ends.

Buddy's father was excited.

"Yes! Come down. I want to see."

Buddy held onto the top of the tree and peered through the branches.

"Is this what you want to see?" asked Buddy with a long voice like a slinky.

Buddy climbed down from the very top of the tree and then messaged his father what was at the top.

"A planet."

"Hmmm. What's a planet?"

"Sounds like planets, father. Plural. Plural means more than one."

"Wow! A planet. I've never seen one before."

"I have. I've seen a lot. I'm a hummingbird."

Buddy's father rubbed his chin.

"Are pecans planets?"

Buddy thought a moment.

"It depends on the tree."

"Harvest tornadoes are planets."

"Harvest tornadoes are not planets, they are storms."

"Mostly, though, planets aren't trees or storms."

"They are when you can't see them." Buddy explained.

"Not when you're inside of them."

"Can't you see them from the inside?"

Buddy's father scratched his head. His head was as bald as Buddy's colorful feathers.

"I don't think I've ever seen them."

"I have so." Buddy said in a voice like a soft slinky.

Buddy walked over to a pile of leaves that his father had gathered up. The leaves were green and covered with tiny circles like concentric circles on a wheel.

"These are leaves, aren't they?" asked Buddy.

"Yes. They are. Nice blossoms, too."

"And the flowers are these?" Buddy said, pointing to a flower. It was large and green with a long neck.

"Yes, that's a trillium. You should go up there and pick one."

"I have one."

"You don't mean—"

"I do. I eat them, too."

Buddy's father could not believe it.

"You eat flowers?"

"You can eat them if you don't want all the food for yourself."

"And these?"

"I'm a hummingbird. I like berries. I like trilliums."

Buddy looked at the ground where his father had put his leaves and flowers. All that was left were a few tiny bits of white.

"You're on my flowers. I'm going to sleep on your leaves."

Buddy's father didn't know what to say. He looked at the ground and thought a moment.

"Let's get going." Close this window