Where are orange-red trees?
They linger still in green gowns
I seek autumn gold
Se what I mean when you do all you can to protect a tree even one as damaged as this one was by that DAMN
Where would they find another home that quick?
Flying ones used to live in my walls, no I will keep a place for them to eat, drink and sleep but not with me!
Can you imagine the commune they have it that tree, glad they are quiet down inside that tree .
Do you have a tree like this?
I am blessed surly I am, to have this kind of world right outside the window. I think they like me too.
They always come together
They reside in the worrisome Willow
I left the rest of the tree up as weather is changing
They will need a dry place to stay
They are so much fun to watch
Till they are trying to chew their way into your home
These have to be the best feed trio out there
Chicken scratch and Black Oil Sunflower seeds, suet too and the river for water
They like this yard too as they have been hanging out together for over a year
No traffic woes here just a big old chewed on Willow
Trees with huge canopy’s to leap from one to another on
Yes life is good in these parts
Soon I am off to join my writers’ group’s participation in “Tales Around the Tree,” a Christmas event at a local library. There will be readings, workshops, and book sales. I am going to read six of my Christmas/winter poems, and a friend and I are going to read “Gift of the Magi” together.
This library is really something. It’s a large old bank that has been converted to a library. It has two floors, polished hardwood and marble floors, two giant gold chandeliers with graceful curved arms, an elevator, and rooms everywhere. The children’s room has a beautiful tree house built by a local man, and the woodwork of the winding stairs and curved railing is gorgeous.
It is decorated for Christmas with I-can’t-tell-you-how-many trees. The decorations are elegantly done and you can’t help but suck in your breath when you walk through the large wooden front doors. The circulation desk is where the bank tellers used to have their cages (is that what they were called?), but now it’s an open circular area with the brass foot rail still in place.
The whole little town is sporting decorations, activities and food for families, and we’re hoping to add to the festivities (and perhaps sell some of our books along the way).
For here today they are calling for some snow. You know it won’t make me happy as I adore my sunshine filled days. I do however loves running out to grab a shot before one foot prints or paw print disturbs the scene.
Only wish the Deer and Moose had been having their morning drink from our stream when I ran out to snap the photo.
Talk to me, December.
Tell me where you hid the green.
What secrets do you hold inside your mittens,
under your hat?
You practice your seasonal math,
knowing the requirement for fourths.
Stick branches poke into the skies,
licorice or clarinet against the grayish-blue.
You hum your melodies composed of wind,
surprise us with the first fresh fall of snow.
December, culmination of the warming,
warmed, then cooled, now cold.
I am so sad over the loss of my one Weeping Willow Tree
I have been here many years to watch it grow
I know it is just a tree
Why is it causing me so much woe
When just out back behind the barn
In the name of conservation
So many trees have come to harm
OH how I am so sorry they meant so little
They said they were coming here to protect the forest
I am here to tell you as many plant trees
I have a Land Trust raping this land
They are not taking out dead trees, like we are
They are taking down and grinding up healthy ones
JT and I walked along what used to be a pretty trail
Today it was ugly not due to a Beaver but by MAN