IN THE FOREST, some things glow. Even on a cloudy, drizzly evening, half an hour before dark, they glow. Not so much from the sunlight, of which there is little, but somehow from within. A red maple Kathy and I planted twenty years ago. A redbud tree like the one my grandad and I planted and watered so faithfully, one hot summer sixty years ago. The mum I gave Kathy for her birthday earlier this month, still blooming beautifully. In the forest, upon the earth, some things just glow, somehow from within. Maybe you and I do, too.