The gnarled old tree holds secrets within its bark. whole other world exists under the rough exterior. Yet, that same exterior can help fuel fires of desperation, fires of destruction, and fires of rebirth,

The wood twists and turns, rough to the touch. New moss grows on the exterior, speaking to health of a thriving woodlands. If you trace the bark with your eyes and fingers, it starts acting like clouds with visions of dreams and old men, dancing girls, and whatever else ones brain may conjure.