There is no art to wandering. If I have a destination, a plan -- and objective -- I've lost the ability to find serendipity... I search for the Holy Grail of particularity and miss the chalice freely offered, filled full and overwhelming.
In the seed, the genes whisper: stretch out for the light and seek the dark. And the tree seeks the light, it stretches out for the dark and the more darkness it finds, the more light it uncovers.