When I think of peace, I look to nature. I have spent so much time during this pandemic looking outside of my large, clear window. In the background, I can hear the worldwide marches of Black Lives Matter on my television. While our fellow humans are fighting for basic peace, my window shows me endless examples of how different parts of nature work together, each tiny gear depending on peace and cooperation within their differences.

Peace is the blueness of the sky being different from the purple of the flowers and the green of the sea, yet they all work together.

Peace is accepting the rich history and memories inside the roots of the many different trees. Like humans, they long to break through the heavy sameness of the concrete that coats the streets of every town and city. Peace is not walking the streets of earth, worrying if you are safe because of your roots or the color of your skin. No. Peace is finally breaking up the concrete, releasing the long-covered wild roots and allowing them to color our world.

Why should nature be better at creating equality and peace than our own human race? Our sun beats down its warmth freely and equally; it leaves no one in the shadows. So why should anyone shine their rays of discrimination on the faces of our beautiful human race?

Peace is not found in a shattered mirror; a dangerous, broken glass, holding only reflections of people who look and act the same. No. Peace is an infinite sky, where the possibilities are limitless. Peace is you and me, together in our humanness, celebrating the power of our garden of roots.