The miracles are all around me, but sometimes I just don't look. But I'm happy to say that these days I look. And look what I see!
Mathematic trees,
assaulted by stone paving,
reply with square roots.
Over at the Alliance Francaise there's a wonderful tree who refuses to give up. Her roots fuse into perfect squares, making the stone slabs look as though they were embossed into her. She survives by conforming, but it's not a grovelling conformity. She does it with such dignity. Old trees are so wise.
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