Shane and I spent a day hiking through John Muir National Park. We saw trees that were hundreds of years old, others that were still in their first century of life. Sunlight has been unable to filter through much of the canopy to reach foliage on the forest floor. If trees could talk, what mysteries would they share?
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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After moving to Utah, I was at a church function waiting in line to get some food.
I stood between two women, and a conversation began. We went through the usual questions; Where do you live, how many children, etc, and finding common shared interests. I love to read, have a dog, and was new to quilting. The topic of food came up. I love food. Especially chocolate.
Lady 1: I love chocolate.
Me: I looooove chocolate!
Lady 1: I like to keep a candy bar in my purse!
Lady 2: I don’t care for chocolate.
Lady 1 and Me: Dumbfounded. My immediate thought is, “I could never be friends with her. We have NOTHING in common”.
22 years later, and she is a dear friend of mine.
She has been converted to chocolate.