Uprooted.

Dying was the easy part.

Her time had come and she’d been given a final push. Now laying on her side, she felt the weight of years drift up, away from the length of her long torso.

How soothing the cool earth felt beneath her, how long she'd waited for this moment. 

Life had been hers to do with as she pleased and she’d lived it to the fullest. Each year filled with beauty. Yet harshness hadn’t been a stranger, either. 

It suited her perfectly to die alone for a loner she’d always been.

Yet never once had she turned away a visitor, often spending long periods of time providing shelter when required. 

She would not be forgotten she knew, but this moment -- this glorious moment was hers.

Dying was her reward.

Seasons would come and go, but she would remain here, giving back to what had held her roots. The warm musky earth would slowly wrap her in it’s rich blanket, nurturing.

The circle of life was complete.

Drawing in her final breath, she slipped away, peace surrounding her. 

For a fleeting moment the woods and its inhabitants seemed to bow, the grand lady of the forest no more. 

For even in death dignity was hers to command.