The sky soars above with the piercing blueness of spring. Lying on my back I rediscover the sun’s warmth that feels so new though I have felt it many times before. With the gentle singing of chimes in the breeze behind me I am reminded for a moment that I am a cellist. With a flash of insight I know: everything will be OK. Not because of success, accolades, riches or fame, but because of the beautiful intensity of the thousand tree buds ready to burst forth into life, resilient, persistent and driven by an ecstasy for sunshine and rain.  There is smooth stillness to their shiny pods, a reserved, unfaltering confidence in their right to be. Yet it takes little effort to imagine their leafy lushness covering the branches. And soon I remember only that I am alive basking in the sunshine. And everything will be OK.