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
Well we have to think great thoughts like that when we head down the highway on the bike .... the weather has been great! .... sky is clear.. temperature just right .... mountains standing tall, heads held high ... it's good to get outside . I love living in the country at the foot of the High Sierras
Here are a few shots from today's ride .... I rode yesterday too just in case you are wondering.