The stalk has withered dry, my love, though our hearts shan't decay

I have been challenged by cucumberseed and nineweaving to write something about trees, and by phi and cucumberseed to write something about the drowning of the Doves. (I said incautiously, "The river got a taste for him.") Just making a note for myself here. Arisia is going astonishingly well, considering I functionally haven't slept since Friday.