Treeple and the the dancer

Today I found this tree and was immediately struck by the fact that it was so obviously human once. My guess is that it was a dancer of sorts, some kind of performer definitely. Initially I got a distinctly feminine vibe, but as I look at it now I think it's more likely a man, stuck forever in a climactic flourish, a performance-ending posture designed to bring the audience to their feet in adoration and from whence he might properly bask in this glorious moment.

Then my thoughts turned to the reason behind this (sad?) fate: was this a punishment? A reward of some sort? A consolation prize? What had this man done to deserve this? Was he killed prematurely in a car crash? Was he murdered by a rival suitor? Did he hang himself? Overdose? Was he thereby rescued from something that pursued him?

In ancient Greek mythology, Daphne is saved from the amorous advances of Apollo (who is literally chasing her) by her father, the river god Peneus, who turns her into a laurel tree. Apollo is so irredeemably smitten with Daphne that he uses his powers to render the tree ever-green, so that in a way Daphne is granted eternal youth of a sort.

The word used to describe this transformation is δενδρόω (Dendroo), which means "turned into a tree". In ancient Greek mythology, arboreal transformations of this sort are not infrequent, and, depending on circumstances, can be either rewards or punishments.

Another favorite (more recent) example - which might actually be read as a variant of the Daphne/Apollo story - is Radiohead's There, There from their 2003 album, Hail to the Thief, in which Thom Yorke is pursued through a forest before eventually being transformed into a tree. The track is awesome, and the video ranks as one of my all-time favorites from their collection (already bulging with incredible work).

So there is precedence for this kind of thing. I'm not sure about how this figures in African folklore/histories, though I would certainly like to find out now that I've found a (once) living example.

The real question, though, is about the tree itself: who was this person, and why was he condemned to this eternal unbending existence? There is something strangely triumphal about the whole thing - almost too much of it for the story to be entirely sad somehow. The tree has a monumental or commemorative feel about it I think - surely a testament to to some great thespian of the Chobe; even better perhaps, the thespian himself, glorying endlessly in his dramatic achievements. Or perhaps this is actually a sad reflection on what might have been. Perhaps I will write this story myself, thereby adding another layer to the lore. Would that be wrong? I don't know.