By Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks to 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.
Devoid of color a tree can still be beautiful - shape and tones, not color, can cause one to stand out from the rest. Like us, as we get older and turn gray, some more than others, so can natures life such as a tree become bent with age and turn white from the ravages of time. And then, there are those who know werein their strength lies and bow gracefully to the One Who sustains their life.
Seen on the banks of the Potomac River, near a boat landing, I could not help but photograph this wonder. I used a DSLR and an 18-105 lens, 1/250 @ f/5.6. This was taken in color and then converted to a B&W photo in Elements. I then cropped for the square look and did some dodging and burning and some slight sharpening. As usual you can click on the photo to get a larger view and then hit your back button to return here.
This tree is part of my world and close to home. Yes, this is my world, there is so much to see, and you are welcome to it.