A life lived in fullness, already preparing itself for becoming. A bud. A growth. A smidgen of something from a seed, like all life, it nourishes itself from its host as greedily as a new-born sucks the milk. It explodes forth quickly, with all this dormant work been done for centuries of preparation, bursting out anew every springtime, hollering ‘I am here’ and ‘you will witness me.’ For up high it stays, eye level or higher, sometimes much higher, sometimes lower, but mostly higher, in the heavens looking upwards but more importantly feeling upwards which is a thing our species could be doing with more of. Scale new heights. Look aloft. Be confident. Stand tall. Be outside, for one day what happens? We become old, we sag and droop, the happy greenness of our lives fades, slowly at first as we stop preparing and producing essential youthful nutrients. Maybe something unexpected happens, a storm, a wind, a ball, takes us from our perch early and we fall to the ground. Or we cling on till the bitter end, hanging on in vain for we know what’s coming and what is inevitable. Eventually winter comes fully. We fall. We lie with our brothers and sisters and we die, taken back to the ground from which we came, feeding the next.