Something most of us understand but seldom think about is the strange fact that Nature covers the face of the earth wherever possible with vegetation. With enormous, seemingly infinite repetition it conceals the ground and builds a buffer between the earth and sky. But it does this so consistently and effortlessly that we fail to see that the green hills are green because of the infinite repetition of grass, shoots, plants and trees. The green hills become simply green. And when the hills turn brown, as summer dries them out, they become like the green hills simply brown.

Nothing blinds us like repetition. Until we see things up close. Until we see the minuscule repetition, the endless nature of it, as it were, in the palm of our hands. It takes a moment of unexpected thought to throw it all in perspective. To see that it isn’t just green hills, but the plants in front of us — and not always green — but always a tiny piece of the enormous and beguiling infinite.