This weekend we made our way to Switzer Falls, and to the tree that he had carved our initials into over a month ago. Having navigated the stepping stones across the creek bed and around gnarled roots draped across the forest floor, we walked straight to the place where our tree nestled at the edge of the water. A quartet of boulders created an unending cadence where the water dropped down and around them. Of all the trees, all the myriad curves and breaks in the path, stones and nature rocking and changing, this became our place. The exposed trunk where the bark was cut away was brighter and more vivid. The angles he had cut with a lockless key had become more refined and smooth, to where the individual strokes had become a fluid line. A heart, slightly imperfect, but ever-changing, growing closer to heaven and becoming a part of something bigger than itself.