The sweet seed flibbook

I looked up, to the sides, back and, finally, down, my feet ... I looked at them for
an arduous time, I followed every line that was part of me. For the first time I felt
having as many feet as tentacles, watered and hidden by the earth and by dust,
long and extensive that I could not see the end of them, they were so long that
they found other trees ... Other bushes, other plants, animals of different species.
I closed my eyes, in the center of my feet, in my roots, and through each channel
I was diluting until I reached the end of my stump, feeling first the throbbing of the
earth, dry places, wet places, puddles, lagoons, the croaking of the toads, the
singing of the frogs, the beating of the plants, the footsteps of the horses, of the
pigs, chickens, birds, worms, ants, the jump of the crickets and other small
insects.
From another of my extensions I felt the graves, the remains of other beings, those
who left, who took the path that we will take later. Another part of me reached the
roots that supported me, and from other directions other roots held me tightly....
That being united to me, connected us through a wide communication network
that extended throughout the forest, this A large neural sphere communicates with
me and these same ones prevented that hurricane from ending my existence. I
understood at that moment that my greatness was not on the outside, but inside
me, what made me great and leafy was not a beautiful green hair or a strong and
thick trunk, but the union that forms the roots so that we remain united before the
circumstances...