This is a story of why Elms die young. It is sort of a curse, mostly. Elm was the rudest tree in the forest where everyone was very tolerant.
The forest is a tolerant, live-and-let-live sort of place, where there is a general sense that trees should not judge one another but concentrate on their own growing.
In the midst of tolerant humble trees Elm was the only one with a severe attitude problem. He did think we was better than anyone else in the forest.
When the Ash tree finally confronted it, Elm did not have a better reason but only that he was Elm.
‘I am hornbeam,’ said the hornbeam. ‘So what? Statement of identity hardly constitutes a reason.’
‘I am Elm.’
Soon the willow tree got an idea. It called upon its beetle friend who has come down from Asia to take care of the matter. From then on as soon as the Elms got to a certain height they were plagued with the fungus. And ultimately died. This happened for a couple of centuries but everyone came back to Norma later.
A sad story though but really well written.
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