When I put my hand on the bark, I can feel the tree's story. I can hear the knowing of this place, a knowing that comes from years of growth, change, and time that coalesce in this singular life. Here, in this spot on the earth, time is simply one more nutrient to be digested. With my hand on the trunk of this piñon, I can feel how life can -- with miraculous, deliberate concentration -- adapt to the inevitable stirrings of change.
— Wayne Muller, How, Then, Shall We Live?