All this time in nature reminds me that death is an illusion. 

A tree falls and dies. Later, its newly exposed roots are covered in moss, fungi, ferns – one day, flowers or other trees might move in and make a home there. Those things will eventually die, too. And so on.

Although consciousness is still a mystery, it’s comforting to know that we’re just endlessly shifting groups of carbon particles. We’re all the same thing, and always will be.