Instruction:
Write a brief history of the world as told from the perspective of a redwood.

Response:
The first thing I remember is darkness.  I had found myself nestled under a pile of leaves and broken branches, just starting to sprout from an old rotting stump.  It was pretty warm.  As I peeked into the crisp new air, I saw ferns, spiders, and buzzing flies surrounding me.  But the thing that caught my attention most of all was the bright blue sky.  I wondered what was out there and if I would ever get to see it.  I had just met this world and wanted to learn so much more.  But I was only 3 inches tall and couldn't see much of anything.  So I waited.

As I got taller, the days began to feel shorter.  My favorite part of the day was feeling the wind blow through my newly acquired canopy of needles.  It wasn't much to look at, but I was proud.  I'd often stare at the giant trees around me.  How I yearned to be one of the tall redwoods.  They were kings of the forest; nothing stood taller.  I wanted to see what they could see from way up there.  One day I'll be one of them.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned into years, and it all felt so rushed that I could hardly keep track of the changing world around me.  I had grown tall enough to see through a clearing in the upper canopy.  Beyond our patch of trees was a mountain of countless others.  Looking out into the endless distance, I began to feel small.  What a strange feeling.  One cloudy day, I saw a lightning bolt strike a hilltop.  Soon enough, bright orange flames erupted across the horizon.  What a peculiar sight.  What began as a curiosity soon became terror as the fire rushed closer to my area of the woods.  I could feel the warm wind on my face as the fire grew more prominent.  Mercifully, the dark clouds hanging overhead opened up to a torrential downpour.  Cold pelting raindrops replaced the warm breeze, night fell over the mountain, and the forest breathed a sigh of relief.  

I awoke to a strange sight when the sun returned the next day.  What was once hundreds of proud redwoods was now a deep black scar on the mountain.  That would be me one day.