My wife and I spend a lot of time in the Sierra. One day, we stopped at a place called Hobart Mills and walked along a stream toward the ruins of theold lumber mill town. Signage along the way told the story about what a booming place it was. We walked along the old railway tracks; we found rusted cans and scattered jars in the crumbling ruins. Standing in the center of what was once the booming town was a single tall pine tree, its branches a ghostly white. I was struck by how it had survived while all around had disappeared. The song came naturally!