I love trees, our greatest carriers of metaphor. The olive tree above is wonderfully representative of what Huxley wrote about in his essay, “The Olive Tree” – a manifest god. These olive trees are from my holiday in the region of Puglia in southern Italy. I can still smell the tobacco-ey smell of the fall leaves being burned into the soil. My older daughter, my younger grandson and I lived in a beautiful trullo, central to an olive grove.