Today is my mother's birthday. She would have been 98. I think of all the times during the last years of her life she would sit reading a book with her gaze moving out the window into nature toward our pond. When I would ask what she was looking at she would say, "nothing" I would finish the thought with "anything that comes in front of your eyes?" She would shake her head, sometimes stop reading and engage in conversation and other times not. It was the "not" times I could sense were the moments she was drawing nature in, reflecting it back and thus nourishing her resiliency. She lived a very long life. 97 and a half years!