It’s like the earth takes a gentle breath after the storm, letting the weeds of conflict grow soft petals instead of thorns. When a field of blood turns to blossoms, we’re reminded that even the most wounded places can nurture new life if we choose patience over hatred. In strategy, that means learning when to lay down arms and tend the soil, honoring the fallen by sowing hope rather than sowing more war. The garden whispers that remembrance isn’t about holding grudges, but about planting seeds of understanding so that future generations can walk in peace instead of through smoke. I love how a quiet garden can still carry the echoes of a battle, yet offers a new path forward.