Every day my morning walk takes me past this old tree in a beautiful park. It stands there lifeless, rooted, dignified and mute. No more speaking through rustling leaves or creaking branches. No more life-giving sap running through its veins, a statue of remembrance to its own glorious past. I greet it every time I pass and I know somewhere deep down in its gnarled and hardened body, it hears me and greets me back.
Image – My own