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A tree falls down in the forest. Its death is not a surprise, and one day its friends would follow it, losing their struggles to the Choking and the Hollow, but for now, they hold on; and for now, they watch as sunlight shone through the gap in the canopy, setting the stage for the dead one’s funeral. A tree funeral is a long affair, conducted by fungi and attended by woodlice, beetles and many other creatures. Tiny creatures that seem to rise, fall then disappear in an instant when the trees aren’t paying attention. Then again, most creatures are too short-lived and fast to the trees. The springtails and earthworms arrive last, feasting on what left of the tree’s corpse before it becomes one with the soil. The soil that would now makes a perfect nursery. There is a moment of stillness, as if the trees are holding their breath. Then there, emerging from the soil, the green shoots of the young ones. So young that time still feel fast to them. The trees knew that most of them won’t