I am sitting on a worn wooden chair.

Next to a wooden house.

Sipping from malt aged in barrels.

Looking at a young tree.

Wood is a common theme in my current reveries.

The same theme of wood symbolizes the passage of time in all these different experiences.

As I sip on this malt aged in barrels on my worn wooden chair, I wonder if our achievements in this generation can outlast the young tree.

I don't and probably will never have those answers, but I do know that wood persists in many forms over time, and sustains lifeforms in many lifetimes.

The humble young tree stands before me, silent and uncertain of its own future, but offers me further contemplations about the true meaning of utility and impact for others.