I Think That I Shall Never See

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

Wandering the campground with Patches today I noticed trees in various forms.  This area has been hit twice by wildfires since we were last here in 2003 and the area still hasn't fully recovered from the damage.  But nature will persevere.

Woodpeckers create a staccato pattern in a fallen log.

A forest protector?  It's nice to know that children still play with toy soldiers.

Can you find the would-be predator here?

Neat, huh?

Over the next few days, snow is forecast for those distant hills.  In the meantime, Patches and I will continue to bushwhack in search of interesting shots.