Earth is home to many cycles. The water cycle, the air cycle, the earth cycle are among them. Systemes created to build, break down, reuse, and rebuild.
All of that grinding, melting, molding, fusing, is science’s magic of making one thing into another. While it all follows a pattern, it all looks like chaos. Such is life. Trust the pattern. I trust the one who invented that pattern.
A sound that speaks of acceptance, success, and lifts a smile across determined cheeks.
More clicks trumpet growth as the tower of color grows.
“One, two, three, four, five.”
Hesitation. What color next? Repeat the pattern? Mix it up? A finger taps lips in thought as eyes shine.
It’s just right and belongs above yellow. Plastic screams as hands stir the bin of blocks. It’s a symphony of possibility that makes an adult’s ears bleed, as a child listens to undertones and knows plastic grows.