At the sea's edge, the mighty tree stopped and drew back.

A tree drew strength from light, but it was not light itself.

On the ride home, our tree drew a few looks - most of them smiles.

The tree of life at the center draws sustenance from both rivers.

Before him the trees drew apart, restoring an hour of the failing day.

The town faded behind us and the trees drew right up to the road and closed overhead.

But soon the trees drew back, and the side became steeper.

The trees drew close again on either side, and they could no longer see far ahead.

The dark trees drew aside, and ahead they could see the path going almost straight forward.

As they passed beyond the green field of the Tongue, the trees drew down to the river's brink.