a picture in my mind

out at sea, not too far from the coastline, was this craggy rock. it looked dry and old with little to offer. yet there was a tree growing on it. just one. and the tree looked old (if not old, at least mature), and it was twisted and turned and hunched over by years of wind and sea. but there it stood, on that rock, almost defiantly. it was a beautiful scene (almost art); and sad at the same time, because it was alone on this rock.