I sometimes disappear, though I am always around. I am a reflection of what I seem to be. I grow bigger or smaller, but stay the same size. Some say I can affect delivery.

Born where trunks bleed and hands turn black, I climb the throat and mend the crack. I sell your dreams, I sail, I sing - In every field, I’m everything. What am I?

I'm spiky and small and a bit red. Peel a few and you'll be fed.

I exist at the end of age-old arms. My wellbeing depends on the interstellar orbit of the earth. My numbers are numerous, my life support invaluable.

I have no wings but yet I fly, I have no eyes and yet I cry.