Isfahan in blossoms.My house is shaping up slowly, but surely. It was a cloudy and cold day here today, momentarily shaking my belief in the coming of spring. Then I went out to take some of the mountains of garbage to the receptacle, and I saw them. The new buds on the tree just outside my house, which is as close to a "front yard" as I can have living in a townhouse. They were there for sure, the branches moving with the cold wind but not relenting their business of growth and the promise of spring. I felt tender love for the resilience and devotion that tree feels in the face of adversity. It has a mission and it won't give up, it won't retreat, and it won't compromise. If only I could remember that mission in my life, too, never giving up on what I think is the right thing to do. For the first time in my life I thought today that trees are wiser and stronger than people, and as such a lot more important and trustworthy. We need to work on hanging in there, too, everyday, and all the time. That's the only way we can carry out our mission and give others hope and strength. I want to be a tree.