Originally Posted by wpainterw

An old tree, gnarled with age, some of its branches torn by storms, may still lift itself up and say that the only thing that really matters is "Now!", that today it is alive, survived the years and that the sun is warming its leaves, cooled by the wind and watered by the rain. A tree does not think of its memories, enshrined in the circles laid down in its trunk. It is too busy searching for the sunlight.

W.