This scene is from a dream I had around age 15. It holds a recurring theme that carried from my teens to early twenties—detached, disconnected trees. They are missing a portion of the trunk a few feet above the ground and hang suspended in the air. A bit of moss hangs from the bottom of the visible trunk, giving the perception that they have been like this for a long time.
In this particular dream, the tree was in my bedroom. My dad was knelt down inspecting the tree in quiet contemplation as I awaited his wisdom and knowledge on the matter. A bright nightlight was coming from the lower left of the room, creating a dramatic light effect. The dream was one of curiosity—it didn’t feel disturbing, although it is quite a disconcerting scene.