The Forest And The Mangroves

As I walk past the houses like giants to the cars, I walk closer to the walk. There is a bird; we must not talk. We look at it and take a picture. It is blue like the sky, as graceful as a swan.

Then we continue. First stop is the mangroves, with their roots like the stinger of a bee; sharp and full of life. 

We continue marching along like soldiers. We pass the burnt trees, the small and big trees, some cut down, some near the end of their time.

 Some trees are covered in bees buzzing around for food, plants; some are covered in ants, eating them up. 

We go further. There is a fork in the road; which way shall we go?

We go left. It looks bigger, then we come to an end. We go back past the dead and burnt trees, past the mangroves and back to the entrance.