The trees hold our secrets. Speaking a secret language through connected roots and told through the wind in their branches, they whisper the songs overheard. Sometimes riding the wind to be blown away, other times the secrets are buried so deep they are like fossils, hard to discover, they remain hidden until we dig. A ring is joined with another. A key to a home or a secret to a forever place, shared moments told around the table. The story becomes a narrative, a life where joy begins, is shared and growth continues. Just as the nut begins sprouting into new life, it reaches for the sun, all the while sending down roots of its own, starting a new as it grows becoming part of the secret world. The trees hold our secrets, they connect us, they become us. Like pieces of our lives, they whisper the secrets of life’s dance.