This past weekend, I climbed a mountain, but I was only allowed to climb to the 6th marker. I wanted to make it to the top. I wanted to spend forever at the top.
What goes up must always come back down. Isn’t that right? I wonder how an oak tree experiences euphoria. 300 years just sitting there in the same spot... oh, how familiar you’d become with your surroundings if you paid attention.
I’ve been with birds. I’ve seen them die. I’ve seen them hatch. A bird may migrate, but a bird will always come back home. The tree lives for the bird’s return.
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