I sat on my porch this unseasonably warm January morning. The clouds moved swiftly from south to north behind the bones of winter tree skeletons. Twilight painted the sky a brooding blue. As I watched in stillness, I noticed how those passing clouds changed the scene so quickly. The canvas was evolving with each second that ticked by.

Then I looked at those beautiful trees that have greeted me nearly every morning for 874 days. At first glance they seem static, but they, too, are changing with each moment. The long-term, seasonal changes are obvious – leaves in summer, no leaves in winter – but the momentary changes are more subtle. A bird lands and flicks bark from a branch or devours an ant crawling on its limb. A raindrop moistens the top of a leaf. Invisible sap gurgles up or down the trunks. New leaves develop silently inside winter buds. Mycorrhizal relationships exchange nutrients at their roots and shore up the trees’ defenses. Change is constant and imperceptible.

I glance back at the clouds sweeping by, bumping into each other, separating, changing colors and patterns. The sun is rising behind them, but the thickening clouds change the scene’s hue from blue to grey. There is a stillness under the shifting sky.

My breath has slowed, and my heart has opened. The breeze cools my skin. I am here, part of this landscape, this canopy, this tableau. My presence here influences what is happening in the trees and air around me, just as the trees and clouds and birds and light influences me.

We are co-evolving, co-creating, co-being.

We are the change and the changers, together. We are one.

Each part of this scene transforms every other part, every moment. It is never the same.

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Enjoy being here now.