It’s early May and the air smells crisp and a little humid. Surrounding you is a field of soft, bright pillowy yellow. You’re almost weightless, a tiny seed the size of a particle. Imagine that you are carried away by the wind, over the field of yellow. Maybe you land on one of the pillows for a moment. Maybe you continue to be lifted up and up by the wind. Which direction is it moving you? Maybe you land for a moment in the green grass. You hear the whirring of insects surrounding you. You stay here awhile and breathe in the soil’s moisture. You take another breath, this time deeper and are led again by the wind. As you’re flying at what feels like increasing speed, weightless and submitting to the wind, you land gently on soft feathers, and get carried over beds of sprouting gardens. Where in the park do you land? Is it in the forested area? Next to a tomato? Maybe in an open field of green grass. Wherever you land, your resiliency allows you to grow and bloom, even for a day at a time.