There are awful days.
That is a fact of life.
But there are also trees.
With green bright foliage.
Don't you wonder what is the memory of trees?
Their millenial wisdom, their unstoppable patience.
Getting blown by cold winds, to regain composure, and poise.
And ultimately, they stand tall, and strong, their roots thickened, trully holding ground, and blossoming flower and fruit.
What a joy, the giving, always: shade or greenery.
You remember the awfulness?
I don't.

Francisco Daniel