If I could only choose one thing to be grateful for in the whole world, I would have to go with trees. The dark-jeweled shadows their leaves cut against the sunlight, the windward lash and sway of their branches, these are things I carry with me when nothing else makes sense. For millennia trees have been humanity's vital other half, first by providing physical kindling, nourishment and shelter, and later by providing a hearth for the kindling of the mind: Paper, a fragile plane for butterfly lines and curves to ink out a world of ideas. As if that weren't bounty enough, they purify the very air we pull between our teeth! Come Autumn, they scatter a treasury of colors that crackle underfoot like poetry.
Truly, I have never seen nor heard anything quite so lovely as a tree.
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