Just the smallest, most insignificant seed--its' fate is so delicate...so unstable. A simple shift of wind could destroy or spare it's future.
So few actually make it, actually find bearable conditions to begin its' long climb upwards. And that little seed, with the proper surroundings and elements attending unknowingly to the little seed's success, sprouts! It bursts with the most beautiful, pure form of will! Those little roots grip, desperately, to the foundation of its' new home--completely ignorant of of the exclusive challenges of the environment it now faces.
Passionate as the last breath of life is the seedling in its' effort to break through Earth--taste the first ray of freedom. And so much chaos it awaits! Will it recieve love and attention? Will it be paved over, ignored and forgotten? Will it die, cold, from lack of sun? Will its' growth be constrained or stunt by the local projects? Will it be able to serve its' purpose...or will it not matter at all?
And through the years, each season the seedling, now a tree, grows and expands in complexity--forever reaching to push the skies further, the refine its' shape and add the the foundation of its' core. The tree becomes strong, becomes wise--out smarting power-lines, paved side walks and unnecessary "trims". It heals--but only from pain that could damage...but it keeps in bold memory the carvings of lovers in its' trunk--having endured the pain to understand its' love.
The old tree sheds its' leaves, it's annually collected lessons, to make room for fresh and new life--always keeping things exciting, this old tree. Perhaps it will bare fruit, or nuts, or flowers--in any case, it will inevitably make an impact in whatever it bares, on some even very small level.
When the tree has met it's time, has seen life, lived, appreciated, and contributed to it--the old tree will release the last of its' life's work, and slowly decay back into the earth of which it came. One can only hope for such a peaceful, serene end.
We take life for granted. No, I see some of you shaking your head in disagreement, but we do. And it's very difficult not to. There is so much involved with living. It is so...difficult. We will never truly appreciate it perhaps--and for those of you who truly do appreciate it, I am honestly sorry for what you must have lived through to get there. Ignorance can be bliss, yes, but in a way, I am envious of those who can clearly see all of life's splendors, even knowing the pain the preceded it.
Bon Iver. Re: Stacks.
(Musician. Song.--look into it, very much worth doing so.)