Dig a hole, strike it big, Squeaky noise, dab a bit, In the heat of the moment, mineral me won't really do, But with some vinegar, on actual me a flavor that grew

The wind blows, but I don't move. I disappear in the sunlight and go underwater and not get wet. What am I?

I fork from roots or split from plans, I stretch through forests, firms, and clans. Sometimes I leaf, sometimes I divide, what word am I that grows wide?

First four are for rear; add two more and I’m in sticks generally made from milk. Last three are an insect, something Leonardo da Vinci wanted to do, something Daniel Bernoulli described too. All together, I come from a cocoon, pretty and unique; some are monarchs of the sky.

Oscar winner, I loved it for the music. Forget Hollywood, and I am an abuser to religion. Six letter single; add one for the rest, we hear the rules, yet forget to object.