It was the hottest day in ages, so of course we decided to climb the steepest hill in the area, with neither hat nor water. And we would do it via the longest route and the steepest slope. By the time we were on our way down again, it would not have been surprising had we been hallucinating, which may explain why the great branches of the shattered tree looked like a smiling monster, arching over the path.

The tree had little to smile about though. Whether by the weight of its limbs or a lightning strike, the branches had snapped from the trunk, leaning forlornly away from the place of its growth. What had broken away was  itself as wide as a tree trunk, its heartwood shattered and exposed. You could only imagine the age and the years it had seen. Where the branches had fallen, the wood had…