There's a tree on an island facing our bit of shoreline in Queenstown. It was well established before we arrived in '97, and may yet see the turn of another century. Trees on the mighty Saint John River are tough customers, taking annual spring flooding and the ravages of winter ice as a matter of course. We see this guy every day on a morning walkabout. Though he doesn't move or even seem to grow larger, the tree is always different. It's a great place to stop for a moment, clear the chatter from your head and admire the complex beauty of something formed organically. We humbly aim for the same purity in our work and life here. The tree doesn't worry too much about all that, it just is.