There are 1,437 kilometers stretching between Sacramento, California and Vancouver, British Columbia. If you start before sunrise and keep your focus you will arrive before a new day begins. You tend to cover your distance the way you cover your tracks--with determination, and as fast as you can. There are stops along the way in case you need to stretch your legs, grab a cup of coffee, use the bathroom, get yourself a quick snack. Come as you please, but you are not encouraged to stay. This is neither home nor your destination. On both sides of the road there are trees that stand in neat rows, their branches touching, pointing to the sun. Give us this day our daily light, they ask. They pray harder than any of us do: If there is evil they need to be delivered from, there is not much they can do from the place they are rooted in. They stand awake day and night; just because they're not going anywhere doesn't mean rest covers them like thick blankets, or a loved one's arms. Sometimes we feel bad for them: they are incapable of moving on. And yet there are days when we want to strip off our skin and replace them with bark, hardened by heat and rain; there are days when we want to have leaves instead of souls. Sometimes we envy them: they are incapable of moving on.