It was a great day to be the Whomping Willow. The weather in September was warm and sunny, that's why. Since 1971 it had experienced many days like this yet it never got tired of them. The Willow’s vast trunk heaved and fell as though it were sighing in contentment at the peace. There was one currently attempting to poke and prod it.

Unless you counted the minuscule bird perched on one of its branches, pecking away. How irksome. Without hesitation the Willow flicked another branch at the creature.

Bye bye, bird.