In recent years, drones have unveiled a long-hidden secret—the Tidal Tree. From above, it appears like an ancient tree reclining on the sandbar: branches flowing like ink strokes, roots etched as calligraphy, leaves resting as spaces of silence, a living scroll of water and light.
Yet it is no tree, but a landform carved by tides—depositing with each rise, reshaping with each fall, never repeating itself. Soft yet powerful, it eases the clash between river and sand, nurtures fish and shrimp, and welcomes birds—a breathing treasure of life.
Perhaps we, too, should learn from it: that true strength need not be resistance alone, but a gentleness deeply rooted in the earth.