The meadow stretches wide and golden under the summer sky. Tall grasses sway in the breeze, and the edge of the quiet forest watches over it all. In the middle of it all stands a tall young tree, thin and bright.
A red fox trots across the meadow and collapses against the tree's thin trunk, tongue lolling. A fat ladybug crawls up the bark. Pip feels something stir inside him — a quiet pull toward something bigger than himself.
The fox pants softly against the bark. Heat shimmers above the meadow grass. A brown rabbit hops over, ears flat, and presses her belly against the roots to escape the sun.
Pip dips low and spreads his branches wide, casting a broad circle of shade over both the fox and the rabbit. The rabbit sighs and drifts off to sleep. Pip's leaves catch the light like tiny green lanterns.
The rabbit sleeps peacefully in the cool shade. The fox's breathing slows. Pip stands quietly in the warm afternoon, his leaves whispering softly in the gentle breeze.
Late in the afternoon, a family of hedgehogs stumbles into the meadow, bumping and squeaking in a clumsy pile at the base of the trunk. Their tiny noses twitch in the cool evening air.
They are shivering. Pip arches his branches low and weaves them into a hollow roof above the pile. An acorn rolls free from somewhere high up and lands right in the center of their heap.
The hedgehogs cheer — tiny squeaks and happy rustles. A soft golden glow flickers along the tree's trunk for just a moment, then fades.
Dark clouds roll over the meadow. The wind howls and whips the grass flat. Rain begins to fall in heavy sheets.
Pip braces his roots deep and spreads his branches as wide as they can go. He shelters every creature beneath him through the howling wind and driving rain. When the rain stops, he stands trembling and soaked.
The golden glow along Pip's trunk flares bright as morning sunlight. He is taller than he was yesterday, and every leaf shines.
The meadow is warm and golden again. Pip's taller branches shade a whole patch of wildflowers. The fox rests against his trunk with a satisfied groan. Pip's leaves chime softly in the breeze, and the ladybug makes a home in the crook of a branch.