Im In The Trees, Remember. — Elsewhere Offline

The North remembers.

Of course an iconic cliche line.

But of course, the north remembers, the earth remembers… we remember.

Thrones rise and fall. Kings die. Wars end. But the old forests, the trees, the seeds, everything we've planted, the earth, and the stories.. they outlive all of them.

You can bury the truth beneath politics, war, or ambition, but the wind has a way of carrying it back through the trees.

Footprints disappear beneath the waves as they wash over the sand, yet they never truly disappear. In the same way, we continue to exist in every place we've ever touched, even after we're gone. Pieces of us remain in the people we changed, the forests we protected, the land we cared for, the words we left behind, and the stories others continue to tell.

You become part of the wind, the trees, the soil, and the stories. Whether they like it or not.

Nature has never measured a life by titles or thrones. It remembers the footprints that changed a trail, the hands that planted a forest they would never sit beneath, the howl that echoed through a valley long after it fell silent.

The earth keeps what matters. As Palestinians, we've always understood that memory isn't held only in books. It's held in olive trees older than generations. In the soil beneath our feet. In the stories passed from grandparents to grandchildren. In traditions that survive every attempt to erase them.

Long after names are forgotten and kingdoms become ruins, rivers still carve mountains, trees still reach toward the light, and seeds continue to grow where someone once chose to care.

They may never catch you again.

But they'll spend a lifetime living among the traces you left behind.

So of course, the North remembers. The land remembers. and we remember too.

Not the version of history written by those who sought to erase us, but the one carried by the earth itself. And despite every attempt to uproot us, silence us, or destroy what came before, we remain.