Michael Segaline Data Scientist and Media LION

be Relevant.

January 16, 2026

At the edge of the town

Where the old wires hum,

Where numbers get tangled

And answers go dumb,

There once was a forest—

Tall, wiggly, and bright,

A forest of Thinking Trees

That helped things go right.

Each tree had a question,

A guess, or a clue,

And together they voted

On what might be true.

No one tree was the boss of the rest—

They listened and argued,

And voting was best.

Now I’m Data Mining Mike,

And long ago there,

I saw those trees waving

Their leaves in the air.

I chopped just one tree—

Just one, not a lot!

I said,

“One won’t matter… I promise it’s not.”

From its fluffy soft leaves I made Metafur—

A useful new thing!

Warm and clever and sure!

You could make toys and tools

And maps and much more,

And everyone said:

Then POP! from the ground

Came a small little guy—

White hat, pink nose,

And a cute as pie.

“I’m the Data Mole,”

He said, tapping the ground.

“I speak for the trees That help answers be found”.

“These trees work together,

They talk and they vote.

If you take too many,

The answers turn broke.”

I laughed and I smiled.

“Don’t worry!” I said.

“I’ll make more Metafur instead!”

Soon I wanted more—

More toys, more fame!

So I chopped more trees

And grew faster than a train.

I left just a few.

“They’re plenty,” I said.

“They don’t need their friends

To work in their heads.”

But the answers got wobbly.

The guesses went wrong.

The Thinking Trees whispered,

“Something’s not strong…”

Back came the Data Mole,

Voice softer this time:

“When trees vote together,

They fix their own rhyme.

But when there are fewer,

The voting gets weak—

One loud wrong guess

Starts to sound ‘right’ when it speaks.”

I didn’t listen.

I chopped till one tree

Stood alone in the land

tried its best—

But without its friends, it couldn’t understand.

Then CRACK.

Down it fell.

No trees left at all.

No good answers.

No Metafur.

No forest to call.

The Data Mole said nothing.

He just looked at me sad.

Then floated away

Like a dream that you had.

All he left on the ground

Was a tiny random seed

With one little word that said:

UNLESS

Years later,

You came along,

Gator, my friend.

And now I know what that word meant.

Unless you care.

Unless you share.

Unless you let many trees

Think together and dare.

So here—take this seed.

It’s the last one I know.

Plant it indeed.

Let lots of trees grow.

Because the best answers

Don’t come from a cloud—

They come from a forest,

The wisdom of the crowd.

The End.

Learn about how Data Mining Mike used the Random Forrest in these articles here:

How to Detect Malware with Random Forrest?

Predicting Patent Case Trial Law

More wisdom from Data Miner Mole here:

What is Data Cleaning?