Soul and soil are not separate. Neither are wind and spirit, nor water and tears. We are eroding and evolving, at once, like the red rock landscape before me. Our grief is our love. Our love will be our undoing as we quietly disengage from the collective madness of the patriarchal mind that says aggression is the way forward.

It is in being with a particular forest that we come to understand its singularity, what it needs to flourish and thrive—and it is how, in interbeing, we ourselves come to flourish and thrive in response.