Headwinds hit the plane at upwards of a hundred miles an hour. The mountains below, covered in pristine white snow, were being pummeled by the wind, as evidenced by the dust devils of snow flitting about the peaks. The sun, at first a brilliant orange, faded slowly over the horizon. Rays of sunlight played off the snow, seeming to glisten while maintaining perfect stillness. Overhead, a deep blue pervaded the light, fighting for the right to envelop everything in its path. Rays of sunlight persisted. No matter how much the earth tilted away from the sun, always a few rays held on. Fiery orange. Magenta. Red. Burgundy. A thought. What is wrong in this world, so much of it, is fleeting. Nature runs its course, and cares not for the inhabitants of the land. A force much greater is at work. Human problems are just that. Economies, civilizations, species and diversity of life, all rise and fall in time. Battles and wars are fought over whose beliefs are right, who has more power and money, who is attracted to whom, and how it all began. And through it all, Nature remains, laughing at the futility of human plight. Nature is wise enough to know that not only will that knowledge never be complete, it matters not. Nature prevails.

Two days ago, I had to hop a plane from Albuquerque back to LA, in easy time to return to school. On the first flight, to Salt Lake City, I was fortunate enough to have a window seat. The time of day could not have been better, as I was able to witness, over the course of the hour and a half flight, the entire process of the setting sun. Seeing that from 40,000 feet literally took my breath away.

Yesterday I turned the clock ahead and hit the mark of a quarter century. Twenty-five. That's how many years it's taken to get to where I am right now. That's how many years worth of memories I have stored somewhere in my brain. That's how many years I've gotten to spend on a planet that offers wonders the likes of which I all too often take for granted.

Today I'm in the moment, moving forward, laying the groundwork of a plan I hope will one day help the very small part of the world in which I live become a better place. Twenty-five years is a long time. In many ways, I've been alive for that long... but in so many more ways, I've only just begun to live.