Every forest has that tree that has seen it all: The sunrises, the sunsets, the storms, the floods, the driest of times and the good cool moments. Such a tree at home keeps some family secrets, as under its shade decisions have been made, disputes solved, games played and good moments shared in daylight and under the moonlight. They stand as permanent features, their roots running deeper as their trunks grow taller.
Sometimes the fall of such trees is unimaginable, be it by axe or nature. But fall they do, when they yield to time, sometimes in our lifetime, when they have also outlived generations that came before us. Such trees do not fall because they are weak, but because it is time. Yet the forest remains silent, to restrategise.