Little Rituals

On the way home from one of my bus stops, I walk up a hill. There is a certain evergreen tree whom I have befriended along this walk, whose elegant arched arms gracefully droop over the sidewalk. Whenever I walk under this tree, I always secretly make sure to let one of its droopy needles gently brush against my face, as if to say 'hello.' This has become a little secret ritual, of which I am rather fond.