And I remember about the ninth day into my solitude the tree outside my bedroom window beckoned me to paint it. The tree had become my one companion during my sickness. The first thing I saw when I woke up and the last thing I saw before I fell asleep. I'd wake up in the morning and go like this, "Good morning tree!" I'd throw off my blankets and walk to the window, open it and listen to the hundreds of sparrows singing in it's branches as it swayed in the wind.
Homage To A Tree
