Who knows what these rings have witnessed? It has seen history unfold. It has heard the wind tell it stories over many moons. Many seasons. Many years. The ages.
It has stood up to the weather. To change. It has grown vertically, spread its roots, expanded its girth, extended its branches and risen in stature. All the while, mutely observing. Its cross section keeping count of the march of time.
Each concentric, marking one orbit of our Earth. With its inhabitants. An annular record. The deeds of mankind etched into its lifelines. 360 degree revolutions, broken, wavy. Like humans, who never learn, simply repeat the follies of the past. Too impotent to break out of the cycles. Destined to go round and round in circles. Circumambulating stupidity.
Wizened, weary, stooping from carrying the burden of wisdom. And being unable to share it with those who require it the most.
Its cross section revealing all, only when it is brought down and sliced open. By which time it is too late for the message it holds.