Trees exist to bring light into darkness, to immerse it in liquid and draw it down into the darkness of the earth.

Following the light through all the faces of a tree is not possible.

But finding the main flow is. Has rock ever looked so mysterious?

Has the sun? After a year of pouring into the leaves, even it gets into the act.

That’s not to say, though, that darkness serves only the earth’s purposes. Birds, those daughters of the wind, need it as well, and that, too, is part of what trees are for.

Bridging earth and sky, trees are vertical rivers. Sometimes, birds make eddies.

Ripeness is not just fruitfulness, not when it comes to trees.

Sometimes it is.

But that doesn’t obscure the point that ripefulness is more.

Sometimes it just means being there and being there. After all, the roots that reach into the soil are just the roots that reach in the air. The tree balances in between, these creatures of the air that don’t think to leave, and don’t need to.

They teach us that we don’t need to, either. We might be trees that have pulled up our roots, but we’re still trees. Why fight it? Revel in it!

 Reach down to touch the soil.

Reach up to touch the light.

And rejoice that you can do it again, and again, and again, and build a life out of this balance.

Beautifully.