A maze of twisty turny branches, none alike

October 26th, 2013, 3pm

It was 25°C. The breeze was light.

When trees reach a certain age, like people, their beauty is in their character. Sometimes you can see the scars of life. A limb lost to winter storm, a crown rerouted after fire; each twist in the bark is a record of its quiet persistence.

So I like to believe that nothing is ever wasted. The project you started in high school and never finished, that thing you tried to learn and didn’t — those are not failures. They’re part of your life tree. You might not even know where they fit in, but they were necessary to get you from then to now.

What will you grow today?

Adrian and Lia said thanks.

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Laura S

Coder by day, reader by night. Sometimes I get them mixed up.

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