I recently read about a tree that can grow in mid air. Its seed may be dropped by a bird from above the jungle canopy and find itself settling between the joints of two branches of an extant tree.
Here the seed will reside and thrive. The moisture and heat will aid it in sprouting and putting forth roots. These roots will feel their way towards the ground like alien tendrils while the shoot grows upwards toward the expansive canopy.
Over many years, this new life begins to eclipse the supporting tree. The suspended tree, initially grateful to its supporting predecessor now betrays an inevitable malice.
The supporting tree starts to wane, it lacks sufficient light to thrive. The new tree’s roots have reached the ground by now and compete with ferocity for the moisture in the ground.
The new tree dominates its elder.
As many more years pass, the supporting tree dies and begins to decompose. Eventually, it ceases to exist. The newer tree is left suspended in the air, seemingly having developed while hanging upon nothing.
One can stand directly beneath its trunk looking up through its tangle of stretched roots and imagine oneself as part of the tree itself.
The floating trees of the jungle; the murderers of their predecessors.