Standing Tall 

1. Season upon season I have stood atop this knoll, surrounded by my rooted kin. Many times, I have watched the sun’s bright orb move through its cycle in the sky: higher during the warmest days, lower when the air is chill. 
2. Not all seasons are the same: one year, the rains failed to fall. I knew thirst so deep that I ached for even a single drop of sweat from the horses that sought shade under my bare limbs. But I was not afraid; eventually fog rolled in and moisture clung to me anew. The raindrops fell, tasting like manna from heaven. I stood firm.
3. Another year, the rain came down in torrents, the sky like a dark ocean. The rain ran in rivulets around me, carrying away dirt and rocks, leaving my roots naked. A few of my kin fell, an entire mountainside collapsed, but I stood firm. 
4. Once, hot sparks shot down from the clouds, igniting some of my dead and drying kin. Great walls of flame pushed through my home, burning the undergrowth and sending the animals fleeing. Many became ash, but I still was not afraid. My thick skin was scorched, yet I stood firm. 
5. Now, song fills the air as birds nest in the cavities of my body, fluttering in the safety of my embrace. High above the earth, worlds unfold, bushes and ferns taking root where soil has collected. Small animals live their whole lives above the ground, clinging to me like their own young cling to their backs
6. Today there is a new life under my canopy. For many months, I have hosted in my branches a two-trunked creature, Girl. Each morning, she speaks to me of happenings beyond my roots, where I can never travel. Her stories bring me comfort, for all of my kin have been gone for as long as she has been with me. In exchange for her stories, I cradle her in the platform she has built near my middle. She assures me she’ll stay until I’m safe. How long will that be? I have never been so alone. 
7. Girl came to me on the day I first learned of the two-trunks, when I lost more kin to them than I had ever lost to the seasons. A group of two-trunks invaded my home with shining metal objects. At first, they were specks on the ground, with high voices and graceless lumbering.
8. ‘This one’s a monster!’ one of the two-trunks called out, pointing at a small kin of mine. 
9. Another replied, ‘Worth a hundred grand!’ Suddenly, metallic roars shattered the peace of my home. The animals ran and the birds abandoned me. Yet I stood firm, listening and watching.
10.  The two-trunks attacked us, the metal thorns biting deep into the trunks of my kin. One by one my family crumpled around me, and the cycle repeated itself like a deadly new season: roaring, cutting, falling. More and more bodies fell with each new day. My home grew bare, and alone I stood firm. For how long? 
11. One day, a two-trunk planted himself beneath me. He peered up at me, admiring my height, though my crown remained hidden to him. I held my arms outwards. Could this creature not recognise the history written on my skin, could he not see the lives that began and ended within me? 
12. ‘Big one,’ the creature whistled. He rocked that shiny object in his arms. Then he brought it to life, and the metal thorns bit me. I stood, shaking, although there was no pain. 
13. Then, the hum of a great gathering began, a far-off song growing steadily louder against the shriek of the machines. A multitude of two-trunks burst into the clearing, screaming at their brethren and the bodies of my kin. Their voices were loud, but they were filled with love and filling the space that my kin had left behind. Girl led the charge. 
14. The two-trunk who had cut into me backed away, silencing the metal thorns. ‘This one’s a beauty,’ he said, pointing at me. ‘Save this one.’ The singing creatures joined hands around me. Within their ringed grove, I stood firm
15. 5 16 Girl’s friends helped her climb into my limbs and build her platform. Her friends left us alone the entire night, but they returned at daybreak to repair the rip in my skin with metal bolts. It is another new season: Girl stays through the night, and they come back, day after day, to check on us.
16.  It is only together with Girl that I am able to withstand the season of the cutting two-trunks; my kin were not so fortunate. Without her, I know the metal thorns would return again to sweep me away, like the rains and wind and fire have tried to do. My roots feel looser, no longer confident of their grip on this life. And yet saplings have begun to sprout in my shadow, clinging tenaciously to the remains of my kin. Among them, I dream of a new season. They are still small, but together we stand tall.