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Tomorrow I'll travel. These trees will change while I'm gone, budding, leafing, becoming green, then greener still.

The trees don't need my help to progress.

I'll miss the daily shifts. Slow. Growing. Growing. Growing.

But I'll change, too. I always do when I travel.

This time I'll return taller. And less obscure.

Not greener, but grounded.

Living the Life of Holly

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