I can feel it as movement: the flowing veins around the sturdy, striving core, the sucking of the roots, the breathing of the leaves, the infinite commerce with earth and air—and the growing itself in its darkness . . .

But it can also happen, if will and grace are joined, that as I contemplate the tree, I am drawn into a relation, and the tree ceases to be an it . . .

One should not try to dilute the meaning of the relation: relation is reciprocity . . . —Martin Buber, I and Thou (1958)

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