Older than our grandparents and great-grandparents, the most venerable residents of our area are what we call trees. (I have no idea whatsoever what they may call themselves.) (Or us, for that matter.) The Rivertowns are blessed with awe-inspiring specimens.
Laying up mass and energy over the course of scores of years or centuries, these ancients are able to support their own massive weights—30 tons? 50? 80?—until energies too great bring them down. Like icebergs, trees have much of their bulk in a place where our vision does not penetrate. (One may insert one's favorite joke about girdles or support garments here).
At night, this twisted, gnarled and slightly spooky-looking specimen could have come straight out of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. In daylight, though, it's just another elderly personage, twisted and gnarled as many elderly personages may be, on Broadway.