Early in the morning, before the children are awake and while the grass is still dewy, I like to walk in my garden. It’s “my” garden only because it shares the same small plot of land my family and I inhabit. The garden does not really belong to me; I belong to it—at least for the short time...

Once, many grey autumns ago, I came upon a tree. The tree, a poplar, had dropped all of its leaves but for one, just one. Exactly one leaf remained near the topmost part of the tree, fluttering in the breeze like a little reddish-brown flag....

I saw the parade pass by with the last soldier marching. I saw politicians stand by not in pride, but in shame as they recited the names of the dead and admitted their failure. I saw the marching band step in time to silence, no more hymns of glory could they play. I saw mothers and fathers say,...