Monday, October 26, 2015

Fall

On my way home from work tonight I saw a gorgeous red oak standing alone among a group of yellow ash trees.  Wow.  Just wow. The redness of the tree was a stark difference from the yellow neighbors. The ash trees seemed to be placed there just to celebrate the oak. In the summer or the spring or the winter I drive by this group of trees and see bare branches or green leaves.  Sugar maples are a pretty crimson red right now but the barn red of the oaks is also a luscious color.  Fall creates the difference that makes it easy to pick out one species from the other.  If the growing season in Minnesota was made into a play, fall is when the actors (trees) take a bow and the spotlight falls on each one highlighting their talent, their beauty, and their worth.

Trees

By Joyce Kilmer
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.

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