There's a Chinese saying. 'When is the best time to plant a tree? Twenty years ago.' "The Chinese engineer smiles. "Good one."" 'When is the next best time? Now.' ""Ah! Okay!" The smile turns real. Until today, he has never planted anything. But Now, that next best of times, is long, and rewrites everything.

They are, in fact, like nothing but themselves. They are the crowns of five white spruces laden with cones, bending in the wind as they do every day of their existence. Likeness is the sole problem of men.

There are a hundred thousand species of love, separately invented, each more ingenious than the last, and every one of them keeps making things.

Trees know when we are close by. The chemistry of their roots and the perfumes of their leaves pump out change when we're near...when you feel good after a walk in the woods, it may be that certain species are bribing you

What we care for, we will grow to resemble. And what we resemble will hold us, when we are us no longer.

He covers his closed eyes with one hand and says, "I'm sorry." No forgiveness comes, or ever will. But here's the thing about trees, the greatest thing: even when he can't see them, even when he can't get near, even when he can't remember how they go, he can climb, and they will hold him high above the ground and let him look out over the arc of the Earth.

You can travel everywhere, just by standing still.

Trees fall with spectacular crashes. Planting is silent and growth invisible.

No one sees trees. We see fruit, we see nuts, we see wood, we see shade. We see ornaments or pretty fall foliage. Obstacles blocking the road or wrecking the ski slope. Dark, threatening places that must be cleared. We see branches about to crush our roof. We see a cash crop. But trees - trees are invisible.