Nestled in vast and mostly naked landscapes, the once tall trees somehow looked more majestic lying on their side, glimmering in the sun with quartz and citrine, wearing it like a badge-of-honor for their passage of time. For time is an honor and they wore it well. But time moves inexorably, and with three spins of the fortune’s wheel, the trees first landed on a timeline where they stood eminent, almost kissing the sun, providing dappling light into the homes of creatures known and unknown to us. And then, spinning the wheel again, their fortune seemed to run dry, roots snapped from explosions containing breathing lava, collapsing and burying the once flourishing forest. At this point, it seemed all would be consigned to the grave—the tree’s bodies to decay into dust forever. But, on the last spin of the fortune’s wheel, luck ensued—a miracle. In the ancient forests’ dark grave, minerals absorbed into the porous wood, giving life where there should have been none. And in the darkness, light started to slowly peer in. Up top, wind carried away one grain and then another, and another. Unhurriedly, soil moved to uncover the appearance of trees with glistening skin wrapped in colorful clothes, apricity covering its body once again. What should have been dust, turned into a stunning stone. A reflection of the beauty of time, turning something beautiful into something radiant. To think of every moment in life as a fortune given, to know when others see the After, there was a Before, where only in the darkness, beauty and strength were born.