Via TroutsFarm, two snippets from the land we call our Heritage Oak.
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
The most beautiful thing about a tree is what you do with it after you cut it down. – Rush Limbaugh