But perhaps she saw them differently.
She had spent much of her life there.
She knew those trees.
She knew that soil.
She knew the changing seasons.
She knew the sound of the wind.
To her, that land was not simply a dry landscape.
It was home.
It was where memories lived.
It was where years of her life had unfolded.
Maybe she remembered herself as a young woman, long before the gray hair and wrinkles appeared. Maybe she remembered the first time she held her children. Maybe she remembered watching them grow. Maybe she remembered loved ones who were no longer there to celebrate her 102nd birthday.
There must have been moments of heartbreak.
There must have been moments when she wondered whether she could continue.
But she did.
Year after year.
Decade after decade.
And somehow, she reached a birthday that most people never get to experience.
102.
A number that represents more than age.
