A literary masterpiece about the hidden power of nature, the mystical union between humans and trees, and the enchanting universe of one of the oldest species on Earth.
"It's strange," he thought contemplatively, "terribly strange, that trees would give me such a sense of a vaguely glimpsed, boundless life: I felt it especially, I remember, in India; the same in the forests of Canada, but never in the small English woods until we came here. And Sanderson is the only person I've ever met in my life who feels it too. He never said it outright, but here's the proof," and he turned back to the painting he loved. A pleasurable shiver of unusual vitality ran through his body as he looked. "I wonder, by Zeus, I wonder," his thoughts continued, "to what extent a tree - umm - in every accepted sense that this word can have - is alive. I remember someone of letters many years ago who told me that trees were once moving creatures, some kind of animal organisms, standing immobile for so long, feeding, sleeping, dreaming, or something like that, in the same place, until they eventually lost the ability to move from there...!"