The old oak wakes in the night to a whispering wind. “There is something,” the murmuration begins, “something in us that lives,” the susurration continues, “something in us that lives beyond time and rain and sunlight.” Dubious, the tree shakes its leaves in a futile effort to rid itself of these stars tangled in my branches, falls back to sleep, dreams of silver saplings sprouting when silver acorns fall. About Elizabeth Ayres