The odour of ashes filled the air as I walked through the forest. I was brought to tears as I came across the remains of an elephant that had its soul consumed by the blazes of hell. 

My mother would come here and practice her violin if she had a bad day at work. This was her happy place.

I painted a picture of the forest before it was destroyed by the fire that men started because of their greed.

The purple lavender flowers lay in rows swaying in the breeze – the trees standing tall and keeping the unknown hidden.