Plant a little tree. Just every now and then, not often, maybe every month or three. Dig a little hole with her hooves and drop the seed in pretty as you like. Come back to water it, if she remembered, if she could find the spot again. An acorn or a plum or an apple or a hazel. Her secret something all her own. Sometimes she’d think about the other seeds, in other places, and wonder how they were doing for themselves.
Mostly, she never saw their leaves. But sometimes...sometimes they’d stay one place long enough to watch them grow.
and the trees come back to the story! and that she's doing this planting without knowing what is to happen to them, and only able to wonder. are all trees planted in this way? or at the very least, maybe enough for the ones that come up in this story to have been, done by some anonymous pony from the distant past. sh, something to pick up on later