On the top of the great hill,

there stood a mighty oak

tree. It was very old,

almost a millenium. Its

many branches once stretched

to the sky, clamouring for life,

basking in the sun, now extend

farther from the tree, holding

birds and squirrels and insects

from all walks of life. In its

time, the tree saw many things;

it saw the forrest below burn and

flood time and time again.

While he remained stationary for

hundreds of years, the tree wanted

to explore the forrest below, to see

what became of his seeds, and to

see what scurried below the green

leaves of the many other trees. However,

every time this thought ran through

the tree's mind, he was always

reminded that he could not leave

his spot on the hill, for he was

just a tree.