When the night falls, it dyeing the sky into dark-blue with somewhat opaque, the clouds thick-layered, leaisurely ornament the panorama. The street lamps ignite the full road, reflect the squint into the tree leaves which touchs up unkempt leaves with sort of elegance and unrealistic luxury.

A tree, stands there. Alone. The branch not stout, not well manicured. Just as normal as one easily be ignored. Just stands there, depicting the magnificence of earth and sky and the between. I not sure of what that diffuses the power, not only around the tree, but penetrating the all view.

From the mind, the hardest part of life is to compromise with yourself, like the tree, just be the rightful itself.