He was born in a verdant, cacophonous, and ever-changing green sea. The Colony's swooshes, creaks, and groans in time with the crashing waves below. Its mood in time and tune with the whim of nature. He started life so small, his friends continually throwing shade from every direction. He steadfastly raised his arms in defiance and grew, and grew, and grew. Intertwined and delighted his branches sought out every available ray of golden light. In the gray months he would plot and strategize. His long lanky upper limbs swaying steeply in the ferocious winter winds. Come the cracking of the frost and the shifting winds he would be the first to seek a higher place or a shimmering void left unoccupied. His canopy grew wider and stronger bowed in the prevailing direction. It would take him months to straighten again, but he surely did. He grew wide and tall and majestic year after year.
One summer a change occurred. The Colony was hanging low aquiver. There was little struggle for space as threatening summer storms brewed over the ocean. From one end to the other the horizon darkened to a deep black. A crack...
And then he was in the ocean, charred at one end and split at the other, torn akimbo by rough waters, tossed and pummeled. One by one his vibrant limbs were torn from his trunk and he twisted and roiled in the pounding surf. He was stripped bare and strange creatures hovered and nibbled him beneath the water. He floated out and in and out again. The waves laughing at his feeble attempts to steer in any direction. Occasionally a wiser wave, one with more substance and pizazz would pick him up and carry him to calmer waters. Relentlessly the other waves steered him back into the churning surf.
Occasionally he would crash into softer bodies. The sea turned crimson, and nibbling creatures swarmed around him. Rumors carried by the waves spoke that soft ones were responsible for the calamitous storms. He consulted with the wise wave who verified this, and steered him to his next higher purpose. From that day forward he was known as Georges the sneaker log.
And so Georges shrinks as he flows, year after year, sneakily seeking revenge on softer bodies.