The sprout grew and grew and seasons came and went. It reached up so high into the air that it towered over the grey snag of its parent tree and the green newness of its siblings growing from the burl wood of the parent's enormous base.
It lived so long that feathered animals appeared and began to nest in its branches. It survived heat and cold when many of its type perished in ice age or draught. It survived a fire which roared into its heart and left a big black cave which for awhile was a den to a family of mountain lions.