I wandered through the park, minding my own business, when I stumbled upon her. Not some mystical enchantress, but this tree... A tree so sprawling it looked less like branches and more like an army of wild serpents. 

Standing under it felt like stepping into a myth where I'd turn to stone if I stared too long. It was Medusa in plant form, each branch poised to coil around clueless wanderers. And yet, there I was, willingly standing in its tangled shadow.

It just stood there. Rooted. "Not much of a conversationalist, are you?" I muttered, feeling oddly disappointed. But those branches darting up, down, twisted like they were trying to shake off centuries of stillness had a strange pull. I could almost hear it say, "Been here a while. Seen things. Done things. Who are you to question me?”"

I leaned in, whispering, "Well, Medusa, you may not move, but you've got the whole world wrapped around your branches." It stood silent and smug, and I swear, just for a second, one of those twisted branches moved.

A nerdy birdy interested in clouds and yellow flowers.