They were heading north into the muscly old branches.
Where'd she go? Is that the sound of pan pipes?
Monkeys!
"T'was brillig...
and the slithy toves...
did gyre
and gimble
in the wabe.
All mimsy...
were the borogroves
and the mome raths
outgrabe." 
This tree was a fantasia tree. The children got all Avatar, I started channelling Lewis Carol's 'Jabberwocky' and the abandoned thongs just spelled Picnic at hanging rock. Don't you love a really good tree- for- all?
