In March, the event I’m always the most anxious for is that first smell of spring cottonwood. In the South Thompson Valley, the cottonwoods have been breaking bud for the last several weeks and I’ve been reminded of how much the events of other species’ lives ground me in place, in this valley. As an essay, Dispersal Lessons took far, far too long to ferment into something worth sharing, but I’m delighted that it’s now out. More and more, I find myself valuing the lessons I learn as I try to think alongside, not just about, plants.