Trees, trees, silent, breathing, scheming against the winds. Climbing, reaching into the blue, leaves whispering secrets I cannot hear, yet I feel their shadows.

Beneath the boughs, roots plunge into earth, a tangled web of memories and dreams. Here I dwell, a part of the cycle, swayed by time, nature’s gentle hand.

In the dawn’s light, a world awakens, and I am but a witness, a fragile being, yet entwined with life.

May I remain, a fleeting thought, in this great expanse, where everything is painted in shades of green, in the rustle of leaves,

• Alice Toklas