Today was rainy, so I was the only one walking along the bike lane and the only one in the forest. I wanted to see if trilliums were already blooming – I saw one, but only leaves. Trout lillies are poking out too and what I love the most is the growing feeling of familiarity. I marvel at how the forest can be so quiet and so full of many things at the same time. Soft sounds of rain, smell of rotting leaves and algae from the deep puddles that never ever dry, fluttering and shrill little cries of brown creepers – tiny birds whose existence I didn’t know until today. Fungi eating away the dead wood in various stages of decay. Thick cover of leaves hides all kinds of life.

On the way back I touched the branch of a sumac and squealed with delight when I discovered that it was covered with a soft padding. At that moment I thought, maybe the problem is that we do believe in heaven. Maybe this is what keeps us from throwing all we have into fighting for what we have. Maybe, if we thought that was our only chance to make it right, we’d be better at making it right.