There is no place too small to grow and find one's being.

Like the ponderosa pine that has been staid in the forest for a century.

Or the weathered and almost perfect-for-skipping stones along the water's edge. 

There's a cliff nearby that can barely be reached without the submerging partially of one boot. 

And on that cliff, there's a cone that the ponderosa has dropped with seeds bursting wide. 

If one picks up that cone and turns it gently in her hands,

 one might see a gathering of lady beetles becoming

in that small, small space.