Yesterday a gnarled, brown, seedpod fell from a tree and landed on the crown of my head. Without thinking I shook it off and turned my gaze to the pavement to see what had awoken my from my waking slumber. A tree's hope for the future lay on the stony ground created by men. Bereft and alone the seed lay on the ground. The wind catches it and we are spun from fallow stone toward chocolate brown loam.

It is the nature of life to take root and grow. Witness the dandelion stalking through asphalt looking for nourishment and light. See the mushroom that cracks lavatory tile so that urban fairies can dance upon it. Listen to the low rumbling sound of tree roots as they heave concrete and buckle sidewalk. Feel the wind blow you a new life.

My darling, how I miss you. I look at the bold strokes you have painted on my life and I remember. I remember you.