I am one of the last of my kind. Our peaceful existence has been beset by a parasite that does not respect our ways. They assume we are not sentient because our movements are measured in generations. I know they have little intelligence since they think in the moment.
We develop thoughts that span generations. Our memories are ancestral. I can remember the beginnings of our time on the planet. I remember the births and deaths of the stars overhead. When one of us fall we mourn, but we know the memories are imprinted in the next generation.
The life giving sun and thirst quenching rain nourish us daily. We reach higher and higher as we grow in height and wisdom. This growth is our biggest strength and our greatest problem. The tallest and straightest of us are prime candidates for the barbaric practices of the parasites. They strip off our skin, live in our bones, and grind us into dust. Some show love, giving us hugs, but they are few and far between.
Still I will strive to grasp the sun. If the parasites come for me I will dedicate my spirit to the little saplings I leave behind and pray that they are allowed to grow in peace, knowing my memories will become one with the next generation of the trees.