Sometimes I think that I shouldn’t be so hard on the people. Eyes are wonderful things, but they come with a lot of responsibility. And although people have separated themselves from their eyes, they haven’t given them up completely yet. There is still hope that they can come together again one day.

This is an important point, because I am sure that if people allow their eyes to look inside again, things might go back to the way they were. In comparison, take for example the trees. I fear that for the trees the cause is already lost. They’ve given up sight altogether.

iv. a blind accomplice The trees are still unsettled about their eyes. They don’t know whether to look at the world and risk pain, or to shut out everything, including love.

Do you remember back when the trees had eyes? The trees had eyes that were so beautifully smooth. And with them, they could see much more clearly than we do. They had a vision as transparent as dreams. Their eyes were so large that they could actually feel. And with these feeling eyes, the trees would take in the world. The trees saw emotions with their eyes: like love and desire and affection. And hate, too. Yes, of course they felt all the people’s emotions, so sometimes this sight could also be very bitter.

Imagine, Reader, knowing exactly how everyone that you see feels. It could be so wonderful. Yet, at the same time, it would be difficult to know everything. One moment the trees saw the joy of sudden love, or the bonding of first friendships. And the trees would be glad. But then another time, the sadness of two lovers separated forever. During these sad moments, witnessing the misery of the world, the trees suffered. Picture yourself, like the trees, standing by helpless to alleviate the world’s heartaches.

So as they watched, as they soaked in the world, the trees were thrown from happiness to sadness constantly. That is the way the world turns, after all. It must have been just too much for them. Trees are kind-hearted by nature, please remember that! But there is an agony in being witness to everything. And eyes were their accomplices.

Guilty trees make stark choices – but can you blame them? With a fearful brow, the trees ran from the world in the only way they could. They closed their eyes. They shut them so tightly that it hardens their skin. It is a fear so arduous and severe, that it stiffens their hearts. That is why trees look so tired and dry. They live in a forest of dulled sense, an orchard of stubborn dread. Trees live in an eternal night of their own choosing.

If you should ever find yourself alone among trees, I suggest you listen carefully. Because in the shivering branches you can hear something, you can still feel something almost like remorse. It carries on the wind lightly and afraid. The trees are still unsettled about their eyes. They don’t know whether to look at the world and risk pain, or to shut out everything, including love. Because of course you can’t have it both ways. If you look at the world, you have to accept both the happy and the sad. And all is happy and sad. Feelings are just a beautiful shade of grey.

The trees can never know if they made the right choice. Terrified of looking and yet brimming with wonder, the trees still listen. They still gossip in wind, shuddering for news of the world. Their imaginations have got the best of them. As tightly as the trees close their muted eyes, they really imagine more horror underneath their eyelids. After all, there isn’t more to see when you open your eyes, but it is much easier to control than what you see when you close them.

The Doctor, I sometimes think, is a lot like the trees. Although she can see with her eyes, they have certainly lost all power to feel. She hides inside herself all the emotions that should be so plain to see. Is she happy to know me? Is she sad? Though I am certainly important to the Doctor, she won’t tell me why she takes such precautions with me. I worry about upsetting her. If I returned to my dreams, would she understand? To be quite honest, I really don’t know.

There must be something to learn from the trees’ example, though. Maybe there are three ways to see things. You can look at them: but perhaps you’ll mistake your own reflection, as people so often do. You can look through them: but perhaps you’ll miss them entirely. (Sometimes I wonder if this is what’s wrong with my eyes.) Or you can look inside them: but perhaps you won’t like what you see. That is evidently the Doctor’s worst fear.

This is the world, really. It’s about how you’re looking.

Your last option, but hopefully not your only one, is to close your eyes. But we must be cautious to regard the trees’ warning. Surely that is where you’ll see the most frightening of things: in your eyes.