Megan

“There were several trees bleakly reaching into the fog. Any one of them might have been the one I was looking for. Unbelievable that there were other trees which looked like it here. It had loomed in my memory as a huge lone spike dominating the riverbank, forbidding as an artillery piece, high as the beanstalk. Yet here was a scattered grove of trees, none of them of any particular grandeur. [...] So the more things remain the same, the more they change after all - plus c'est la même chose, plus ça change. Nothing endures, not a tree, not love, not even a death by violence.”
― John Knowles, A Separate Peace