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He was more than a sapling, but less than a mighty oak when the storm came. While the rain was welcome—his roots and leaves were dangerously dry—the powerful winds were not. Suddenly he was ripped from the Earth, lifted aloft and dropped from a great height to a spot 40 feet from his birthplace and home.

Although he’d heard rumors that such things were possible, he never imagined it happening to him. He was alone, helpless, connected to no one and nothing.

His roots hung below his trunk, blown by the still-powerful breeze. But in time, on their own, they gripped the Earth once again and dug deep. Now the tree was trapped in exile.

His bark grew thicker and he stood taller. He felt immune, fearless but also directionless. So, what could he do? He stood quietly, under a protective canopy of his own leaves and waited.

Something might happen.