Rebel with a cause

Proud and majestic the old oak tree stood, splaying its canopy of leafy-green branches protectively over its brothers and sisters: a hundred year old guardian of silent giants. It had endured drought, flood, wars and fire and nothing, nothing, was going to kill that tree. It would be there for eternity.

Preston Developments, however, had other ideas. It wanted the land on which the oak grew for luxury apartments and shopping centres. So one by one the oak's companions were cut to the ground by squat humans that looked like ants clad in bright orange jumpsuits. As the trees fell to the roar of chainsaws the helpless oak grew angrier and angrier. It felt its knots tighten and the rings of its trunk contract. Nothing was going to kill him. He would be there for eternity.

When all but the old oak was left standing the skies above the field of stumps darkened and a thunderous clap shook the earth. But that didn't deter the army of orange ants. They yanked the cords to their saws, starting them up with a roar and a puff of smoke. But as they got to within a foot of the gnarled tree each one of the petrol-powered motors cut out. Not one so much as touched the old oak's bark. Nothing was going to kill that tree. It would be there for eternity.

"If mechanical devices won't work then brute force will," roared the suited ant who watched on with glee.

So the worker ants dropped their saws and picked up axes. They held them aloft, blades glinting in the light, and as they swung them down to deliver deathly blows the old oak fluttered its branches and braced itself. When the axes fell they bounced off the oak's trunk. They didn't even scratch its bark. Nothing was going to kill that tree. It would be there for eternity.

The suited ant tapped its foot in frustration. "Set fire to it!" he roared.

The old oak, squeezed and strained with all its might, forcing resin out from all its cracks and crevices. And when the naked flame touched the oak's brawny stem all that ignited was the gloopy, yellow sap. At first the orange ants began to dance with joy that they had slain the mighty oak, but as the flames died and the tree still lived they were dumbfounded. Nothing was going to kill that tree. It would be there for eternity.

As the ants left, scratching their heads, the old oak claimed a victory. But it was short-lived as the next day the worker ants returned in loaded lorries.

"Herbicide should do the trick," announced the suited ant.

Each ant donned a glassy helmet and strapped a yellow canister with hose to their back. As they approached the oak they pointed their hoses toward its trunk and foliage. The oak began to flap its branches, creating a gust of wind that not only blew the fine mist from the canisters away but blew the ants away as well. Nothing was going to kill that tree. It would be there for eternity.

"This is war," declared the suited ant. "I'll have this stubborn tree down if it's the last thing I do."

But with every attempt to strike it down the oak held its ground and refused to die. The ants tried paving round the roots, but the oak merely shook its twisted foundations and crumbled the slabs as though they were biscuits. They tried exposing the tree to deadly disease spores but the spores simply hung around the tree like an aura. They even tried casting spells but nothing would work. Nothing was going to kill that tree. It would be there for eternity.

Preston Developments eventually conceded defeat, abandoned its plan and left the field and the old oak that grew in it. That tree would be there for eternity. Except three years later it wasn't. In the end the only thing that brought down that tree was a tiny, microscopic insect the tree didn't know was there. It quietly, surreptitiously and discreetly chomped its way through the old oak's soft wood. But before the tree grew its last ring an acorn fell from one of its branches and budded in the ground beside it, getting ready to take its place.