This tree clearly missed the memo about staying grounded.

The lake stretched out before me like a mirror reflecting the emptiness of the sky above. A single dead tree rose defiantly from the water's surface, its gnarled limbs casting shadows that seemed to whisper secrets of forgotten floods. The air was still, heavy with an unspoken tension that only such desolation can produce. I found myself staring at the tree longer than I expected, drawn to its quiet defiance. Even in its lifeless state, it seemed to hold on to something intangible—a memory perhaps, or simply the stubborn refusal to vanish. The shoreline in the distance was barely visible but offered no comfort, just more silence. It made me wonder if resilience was a choice or merely an accident of circumstance.