It was quiet, unassuming. It was tired.
The time has come for it to go. And before it did so, it wanted to be upside down.
Not just anywhere, but a realm with sharks, rays and bubbles.
"What's anti-gravity? Can I ever feel it?" whispers the Dying Tree as its branches become bare and everywhere starts to creak.
Maybe it's impossible to experience that, but it's always possible to imagine...
The rays glide because they can and they are happy to.
A smattering of micro-organisms, possibly rabbitfishes, maybe even clownfishes.
A lonely mermaid sits, dreams then ponders.
And so, the tree exists in a world of its making, finite and infinite in different measures.