People are a rare sight. They barely ever come around. I sit in my tree all day long but I do not see them still. I make fires to keep warm, I hunt to keep fed, and go to the river for my drinks. My tree is the only thing I have, but even that will go soon. I will move, I am moving. The journey for a new tree is tough. This forest is dying. I cannot stay here, I move to my west, the sand land. It will be hot, more water needed, collecting it in the skins. Food is ok.

The hardest part of walking is the waiting for the wonderful sight at the end. The sand shows for miles, the only things obstructing the sands smooth surface would be buildings, things from days gone past. The buildings look me in my eyes but I won’t be tempted. I will find my tree. The walk takes longer than expected but food and water are still plentiful. People, they rode upon me in the night, but to my surprise they do not come to take, but to talk. They believe that there may still be a land with buildings still upright. But they do not know any good trees. They have ambitions to see them, but they do not even know where the forest is. How will I find my tree with people chasing ghost? I start again in the morning. Walking, waiting. Looking for my new tree.

The time has finally arrived. The green has shown through. The desert has ended… or so I thought. This oasis had no such grandeur. I moved upon it earlier, now I will leave. The water refills but the food is scarce. I hunger. Walking more and fixing course. The real green should show through. But it does not, It consumes. The green measures into the sand with large root, the size of many men. I walk towards it to see the massive trunk. But alas it was cut. Like most beautiful things. I will look for another. A tree this large could be my tree. I climb the cut trunk to find a better view. There is a tree past this, A large one. Not too far away. But still more than the old ones would go.

The new journey is taking longer. The hills area a inconvenience.  But I push past. My tree in sight…...People. My tree is a home. Many homes. Many people.  BUILDINGS. They do not belong here but… Look to be dragged? Do they stay on the tree or the buildings. ARE THEY NEW or ARE THEY NOT?  We will see. I move forward. To the people, they are welcoming. They lead me to a building, They are run by old. I motion to have the tree. They say it's fine. I have people. I have tree. I have building. But I do not have peace of mind. Would it be fun to play with them? Should I go see the incomprehensible amount of people in one place. I think I won’t solitude in a tree is more than enough for me.

Surely enough, the people see me. They want to know. Should I tell them? Should I? It does not matter. They do not make the climb. They stay down. They may feel I will be suffocated by loneliness. But am I the lonely one if I am with my tree? They lose power and their world crumbles. Again. DO they make the climb once that happens? I would hope so. Or will my happy moment with human beings ruined by a simple on/off switch. Who knows. The tree is where I will stay.

The people gather on the fifth day each week. They laugh and smile and hollar. The temptation is too much and I succumb, no, they wanted me to come down. They are fun. They are beautiful. They are dead now. The electricity was too much for them. They burnt themselves, they burnt their homes, they burnt their lives, but worst of all They burnt my tree at its base but it still lives. I knew it would be like this. I knew. I knew. I knew. Maybe I really was the one to succumb to loneliness. Or could it be even with the people next to them. They still felt lonely?