In the country I come from, my grandparents’ generation had never heard of long-term planning, externalities, continental drift, or the expansion of the universe.

Yet, even in their old age, they kept planting olive trees and cypresses without worrying about costs and returns. They knew they would die, but they still tilled the earth—for those who would come after them, and perhaps for the earth itself.

They understood that no matter what 'power' they had, it would bear no beneficial results if they didn’t obey the seasons, if they didn’t pay attention to the winds, if they didn’t respect the unpredictable Mediterranean, if they didn’t cut the trees at the right time, and if they didn’t allow the must the time it needed to ferment.

They didn’t think in terms of infinity—perhaps they didn’t even understand the concept—but they acted, lived, and died in a time that was truly endless.