It is hard to describe the comfort one feels in sitting with something you trust will always be there, something you can count on to remain familiar when all else seems awry. How remarkable it is to know that so many have watched the same sun set before you. How the wind can carry pollen and drop it somewhere it has never been. How the leaves have always become the soil that then become the leaves again. How maybe we are not so different from the leaves. How maybe we are also always being reborn to be something more than we once were.
