Look at the trees. They stand in silence: blooming in the spring, lush and happy in the summer, vibrant in the autumn, and lonely and vulnerable in the winter. Yet their roots sip from the depths of the earth, and their branches gaze up at the endless skies, whether azure or brumous.
From time to time, birds fly past the trees. They come in different colors and produce various songs. Some fly during the day, some at night. Some decide to perch on the sturdy branches for various reasons: rest, food, shelter, protection, and all the support they can find for a short while. Some birds stay longer, perhaps making a nest and nurturing their little family until the nestlings fly away. Some peck at the tree, leaving permanent, hollow spaces. Some hide and cache their most valued treasures in the tree trunk. A few take away a piece of the tree with them: a berry, some pollen, or a twig. But one thing is sure: they always leave. Always. The tree is a temporary stop—a place of revival and refuge. And when the purpose is served, they fly over entire forests toward their more important destinations. But that does not make trees less important. Trees know the eternal verity that birds will always take and leave, and the trees will always stay and give.