As soon as I saw the tree across the street from our house, I thought of the Giving Tree. It is just so child-friendly. It made me happy.
Our backyard, however, was another matter. Do you remember this picture?
NOT feeling a lot of love here. July 14, 2010 |
We'll have to put a big rock (or two) up there, so our grandchildren can play hide-and-seek with the tree.
Speaking of trees in our backyard ... I've also fallen in love with the "Fat Albert" spruce tree we planted. Its new growth is such a pretty blue-ish colour.
Does all this make me a tree-hugger? Maybe so.
Trees
by Alfred Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
(And I *just* learned that Joyce Kilmer was a man. How did I manage to go through school - including a degree in English literature - and not know this? I learn something new almost every time I write a blog post.)
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