Among the ancient howling walls of the lonely canyon was a secret hidden place. Reserved only for the most promising of Royal heirs.
Perfect limbs reach proudly for the sky. Innocent, beautiful, powerful, majestic, and perfect. Not yet tainted by life's Strom's.
Strong elegant veins running from top to bottom, giving them strength to withstand the strong winds sent to destroy them.
Bending, but rarely breaking, they battle the storms sent there way. Fighting courageously. Becoming stronger in new places. Bettering in others.
Broken and wounded at times. They stand strong. No longer with a perfect appearance with their broken and battered limbs, they search deep into their roots looking for strength to carry on.
Among the ancient howling walls of the lonely canyon was a hidden sanctuary. Reserved for only nature's most magnificent ambassadors.
Standing tall and proud, they look out over the earth. Guardians over the week. Protectors of the small and frail Allies of the strong and courageous.
Perhaps searching among our branch's is fruitless. Because what we are truly seeking for only appears in the roots.