Not long after I unfurled my first pair of leaves, the other trees told me it was a terrible winter that made room for me to grow. An enormous Ash stood here, towering over the canopy, before her trunk shattered from the pressure of ice crystals growing in her sap.

Like thunder, they said. Perhaps that is why I am always afraid of thunderstorms.

Now, the rotting wood of that once-regal giant sweetens the soil where I grow. Sun pours through the gap she left in the canopy. Sometimes I feel guilty when I enjoy the rich earth or the warmth of the sunlight on my leaves, but the other trees tell me that is the nature of the world. The old die, and the young grow.

I wish I could have seen her in her glory.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2 Estimated time remaining: 29 Minutes