Here we are again. I try to think of something to write about and all I can think of are those trees. I mean the ones I encounter whenever I go to the park. You know the ones – they greet you on that familiar path. They stand firm and grounded, bearing the marks of all that have come their way. They bend this way or that. Their branches are silhouetted against the evening sky, reaching up and up. They serve as cover from the sun and a canvas for the light.

Always reaching for the light…

-Eyes wide open, Chinwe