He grabbed a pair of boots, his staff and a pouch full of seeds given to him by his father several summers ago, just before he died. Clutching the bag, he had flashbacks of the dream;
He stood before a tree in the middle of the land. Its height was enormous. The tree grew large and strong, and its top touched the sky; it was visible to the ends of the earth. Its leaves were beautiful, and various fruits offered something for all. Under it, the wild animals found shelter, and the birds lived in its branches; every creature could feed from it. Then he heard a voice saying: ‘Cut down the tree and trim off its branches; strip off its leaves and scatter its fruit. Let the animals flee from under it and the birds from its branches. But let the stump and its roots, bound with iron and bronze, remain in the ground, in the field’s grass.”
Afterwards, he saw the tree begin to wither as the voice suggested; he saw what appeared to be shadows of individuals walking to and from the tree, taking from it as it began to lose all the elements that seemed to add life and beauty to it. As he watched, he realised that most, if not all, of the faces were familiar to him. Finally, as he approached, he saw someone like his father holding fruits and branches collected from the tree in the distance.