Since I was a child, I have found myself looking out of windows, looking for the sanctuary of trees. In the summer I would climb in their branches, and observe the world around me. I would lay on the ground and look up at the patterns the branches and leaves wove against the sky. In the winter I look for lacy silhouettes, as the sun moves southerly and sinks, casting twilight. I don't know why. I can't stand to look out a window without seeing the sheltering arms of my trees. They are such a comfort.