Written in red, while on hold: Toni Morrison wrote about the humans' audacity to attempt love in the face of what Nature does naturally--the smell of rain and flowers turning, etc... I watched small mounds of snow slip slowly off a tree branch with its own accidental magic, and I knew what she was referring to in that moment. There's something incomparable about the laws of physics--the unconscious grace between wind and the object's reactivity or the absoluteness of gravity against snow-covered limbs. People brazenly attempt to reproduce a certainty that we are not truly capable of, and it's either humorous or terrifying or deeply romantic when we fall short of that imitation. But with an entire life to build, what else are we suppose to do but try?