I grow from trunks and reach for the sky, I split from paths where choices lie. In banks or armies, I help expand, what am I, stretched across the land?

In watery realms, I find my place, guiding journeys with rhythmic grace. Held in hand, I dance on waves, a silent partner sailors crave.

It's found underground, breaking it makes a nice sound, you can use it to see farther, or use it on your armor.

I start out green and hide in plain sight, but blush in the sun when the moment is right. I’m called a veggie in everyday chatter, yet I’m a fruit - but does it matter? Slice me or squish me, I brighten your plate, what am I, ripening whilst you wait?

From fancy ships, to rough days in a truck, keeping one of these avoids a clusterproblem! In the wilderness, a cabin keeps many of these, but also flashes with fire in a thing with tubes.