I grow on trees, but I’m not a fruit. I’m not a flower, yet flowers follow me, I promise something I never deliver myself. I arrive loudly, yet leave without a sound. And my entire purpose is to disappear.

I am vast, yet never enough. Between words and worlds, I part.

I wear a fancy hat and a wooden one at that I can be a suit but won't make you look cute I can even become food for some considered crude

Head of a duck Body of a bear Legs of a wasp Feet of a hawk

I'm a paradox in a shell, formed without life, yet life may dwell. Break me, and a meal appears, or potential futures become clear. What am I?