Dryad

I  was struck with wonderment at the sight of this tree, surveying me with its unblinking, intense gaze as if to stare me down.

But it was only after I'd taken the initial shots and walked around it that I realized that this was no ordinary tree -- it was the habitation of a dryad!

In olden days it might well have been -- very likely would have been -- an object of worship, as a guardian spirit of a village perhaps, or maybe a forest god.  Tiger hunters and wild ginseng harvesters would have made small offerings on a makeshift altar, barren wives would have prayed for its blessing.  But today the busy pedestrians passing by with hurried steps pay it nary a glance.  No wonder it's starved for a feeding, waiting with its mouth open.  As I, too, walked away I was left in a wistful mood.

Myths need sustenance, just like mortal humans.

Related post:  "Mandrake Root"