Just a bit peeved at the site of trees that have been chopped down. In the UK removing trees requires permission from the local authorities because of a variety of reasons. So I was surprised to find the folk controlling the old railway line have chopped down lots of the trees that graced the path. I accept many were getting old, and that one or two looked a bit dicey, but there is now a row of stumps awaiting beasties to move in. The colour is much brighter than my picture shows, it appears a bit feeble on this laptop so use your imagination here. The bright yellow wood stands out against the leafless trees and not yet grown weeds around. No doubt the Rangers know what they are doing, but it still seems a pity to lose so many lovely trees.
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 sweet earth's 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.
Joyce Kilmer (A man by the way)