Looking out of the window, my son saw a tree whose branches were strongly swaying back and forth. "How does the tree move its branches like that?" He asked. Without rising from my chair, nor looking up from my book, I started to answer, "The tree is not moving the branches, son. The wind is..." But before the words were out, I _ myself. Instead I rose from my chair and moved to the window to join my son. I looked at the tree. From inside our room, from behind the window, I could neither feel nor hear the wind. I saw instead a tree with its branches silently moving and thought to myself, from inside this room, how could I possibly be sure that the branches were moving because of the wind rather than from the tree's own willing? As I stood there with my son watching the tree, I became struck by the movement of the branches, the shimmer of the leaves. My mind quieted and I became less sure myself of what was causing the branches to move. Was it the wind, or was it some expressive, independent movement of the tree? "I see what you mean," I said to my son. "The movement of the tree is very beautiful." "Do you think the tree is dancing?" asked my son. "Why would it be dancing?" I asked. "Maybe it is happy because the sun is shining," he said. "Perhaps," I said. "Or because it's spring," he added, "and it's not cold any more." "Perhaps," I said. As we continued to watch the tree together, I, too, began to appreciate the dance of the tree. I enjoyed the movement and sway of the branches, seeing little nuances  that I hadn't noticed before. There seemed to be a rhythm to the movement, first strong and forceful, then light and gentle, then more vigorous, sometimes nearly violent. "Are trees alive?" my son asked. "Yes, they are alive. Why do you ask?" "Because this tree looks happy," he answered. "Can a tree be happy or sad?" "What do you mean?" I asked. "In the winter, trees seem sad," he said. "Their branches hang down, and they look cold and lonely. But now with the leaves on the tree and the sun shining and the birds flying, it looks happy." What on earth caused the tree to move?
The tree itself felt happy and was dancing. The tree was too sad to sway as if to get rid of all trouble. It was the warm spring. The wind did so.
Question: Looking out of the window, my son saw a tree whose branches were strongly swaying back and forth. "How does the tree move its branches like that?" He asked. Without rising from my chair, nor looking up from my book, I started to answer, "The tree is not moving the branches, son. The wind is..." But before the words were out, I _ myself. Instead I rose from my chair and moved to the window to join my son. I looked at the tree. From inside our room, from behind the window, I could neither feel nor hear the wind. I saw instead a tree with its branches silently moving and thought to myself, from inside this room, how could I possibly be sure that the branches were moving because of the wind rather than from the tree's own willing? As I stood there with my son watching the tree, I became struck by the movement of the branches, the shimmer of the leaves. My mind quieted and I became less sure myself of what was causing the branches to move. Was it the wind, or was it some expressive, independent movement of the tree? "I see what you mean," I said to my son. "The movement of the tree is very beautiful." "Do you think the tree is dancing?" asked my son. "Why would it be dancing?" I asked. "Maybe it is happy because the sun is shining," he said. "Perhaps," I said. "Or because it's spring," he added, "and it's not cold any more." "Perhaps," I said. As we continued to watch the tree together, I, too, began to appreciate the dance of the tree. I enjoyed the movement and sway of the branches, seeing little nuances  that I hadn't noticed before. There seemed to be a rhythm to the movement, first strong and forceful, then light and gentle, then more vigorous, sometimes nearly violent. "Are trees alive?" my son asked. "Yes, they are alive. Why do you ask?" "Because this tree looks happy," he answered. "Can a tree be happy or sad?" "What do you mean?" I asked. "In the winter, trees seem sad," he said. "Their branches hang down, and they look cold and lonely. But now with the leaves on the tree and the sun shining and the birds flying, it looks happy." What on earth caused the tree to move?
A. The tree itself felt happy and was dancing.
B. The tree was too sad to sway as if to get rid of all trouble.
C. It was the warm spring.
D. The wind did so.
Answer: