I sat under a pepper tree and read about how the New Zealand shrubs Pseudowintera axillaris and Pseudowintera colorata, with their large red-blotched leaves used in traditional medicine, produce greenish-yellow flowers and orange-red or black fruit.

Under the old pagoda tree, children chased fireflies until dusk.

The old pamphlet described a condemned man's final walk to the Tyburn tree.

The craftsman tapped the varnish-tree to collect the resin he would use to restore the lacquer on the antique chest.

A lone fever tree stood by the watering hole, its fragrant yellow blossoms attracting a parade of sunbirds.

The gardeners planted a calabur tree near the schoolyard to provide shade and attract birds with its small red fruits.

The botanical garden planted a rare dodo tree near the visitor center to educate people about Mauritius's unique flora.

The colonial botanist sketched the ramoon-tree, noting its fruit and leaf patterns for later study.

In the old alchemist's notes, he detailed how a Saturn's tree formed as delicate, branching ribbons of lead along the inside of the glass vial.

At dusk, the courtyard was perfumed by the sad tree, and she closed her eyes as the memories floated back.