Does anyone exchange gifts more beautifully than a flower and its pollinator? Life carries on through a mutual self-interest, a mutual benefit, and consequently, a mutual reverence; it is two lives intersecting at the point of that peculiarly unwavering and directed hunger for survival. It is a tiny fly dipping its nose into a tiny pink flower. For this lonely human, this exchange embodies love and beauty, and the gifts of the living. Everything else becomes an ornament; everything else is simply stuff.