Half the town was gone by the time they tried fire, but even that didn’t work: the roots and branches wouldn’t burn. If you cut them from the trees with an axe, then they would light, but another would have just grown in their place. It was a losing battle.
I was only seven. I remember my father talking to the mayor, faces serious. I remember being told to gather my things now. Mother helped me, but still we left a great deal behind. By the next morning the forest had retaken the town, and we were on the road.