There’s the tree on Burney. At some point long ago, a storm or a car must have given it a catastrophic blow. It’s on its side, rooted to the ground at the fallen trunk’s points of contact--a fully-leafed canopy growing skyward at the end. Kids must love that tree.

There is the trunk of the chainsaw-severed sycamore, covered with bright green shoots. The rotted out trunk at the canyon sports vines and lichens. The hollowed dream tree trunk, a flowing fountain of clear water reflecting sun.

Life is insistent; it follows even the severest cuts.