The woods near the Pond are about as close as we come to an urban wilderness, surrounded as they are by car horns and runners and laughing children. They all unwittingly partake of the dance of this day. The sun and chill air bring our awareness back to the shifting of seasons, that forever transition that fluctuates in and out of focus. Yet in this moment, it is hard not to imagine the dance continuing just exactly this way forever.
And of course it won't. On this particular day, in this moment of sunlight and shadow, we glimpse a vigorous beech tree, hidden near a roadway close by paths and ponds. We imagine it inhabiting this place, quiet and leggy in those dense woods, muscular even as leaves drop and sap prepares for the inevitable stiffening cold.
We share this world with such wise beings, ones that never speak and rarely move. When we are attentive, we find common ground and comfort in this companionship, and celebrate what our lives share.