Green Fields of Madagascar.

I sat halfway out of the taxi brousse window, mesmerized by the endless green hills. People dwarfed by the vastness of the rice fields. We were speeding around a corner when I snapped this photo, and I’m glad I could capture the moment because now the fields are harvested for the year. Today, I sat on top of my bed reading Beyond the Rice Fields, a book by the first Malagasy writer to have been translated into English. On one of the first pages, a line read ‘The old tree is granted new life in its tiny seeds’. I placed the book down and sat silently for a good 10 minutes. In what ways can we nurture the seeds of our future? What role do we each play in teaching the next generation?