While exploring a moss-covered glen beneath the ruins of Scotland’s Rosslyn Castle I come upon this tree whose trunk had burned out, leaving a cocoon-like opening. It feels a very safe place, like the embrace of a beloved grandparent. I’m tempted to crawl inside. Surely it serves as some critter’s shelter at times, and it invites me to consider the idea of home and what that means to each of us individually. Not just as physical protection from the elements but also as a refuge for the heart. Home. The word alone causes flutters. I squeeze myself in, thanking my old friend for the embrace and for gifting me this painting idea.