Seeing green everywhere you look, green leaves, leaves that look like human hands from human arms that are called branches, wrists that are the stems on leaves as they attach to branches, wrists onto arms.
Movement constantly, always a breeze, may to be just a slight breeze, but always leaves moving in even the smallest breeze, leaves nodding like chins, up and down, a tree that approves, a nod as the leaves applaud you and your achievements.
A Maple tree leaf with three triangular projections on its surface, veins capillaries in the leaf taking water instead of blood to all ends of the leaf to feed the leaf with water, nutrients of compost in the soil, healthy leaves, seeds spreading of Maple trees winding up like helicopters, flying as far as the breeze takes it, colored red and green in autumn, with hints of yellow to light up the leaf as if surfacing the yellowness of the sun.
Autumn, you cannot deny it, it is a beautiful season in some countries, a season of a family of trees, leaves shaking hands with you, spreading into compost feeding the soil, vegetarian delights, greenness and orange, red vegetables and yellow.
A tree and then another tree, great California Redwoods, hearing a tree fall in a forest, being the only one to hear it. Yes, it fell, and made a sound and you are the only witness, we believe in you.
Schoolyards filled with learning students, paper in their notebooks created from the wood of trees. Would I, could I? Weeding our gardens, to be or not to be. Shaking a spear like Shakespeare, students becoming great authors, books leafing as we turn the papers. Spreading gold leaf on paintings, not to be touched. When a leaf dies and falls from its Mother Tree it changes into a color of gold, gold without water, a dried withering leaf, gold as the color of its death, metallic nothingness. Whiteness being the color of life instead, white everywhere in the cleanness of your thoughts and actions as you love with or without white snow.
Flowers like the white, red or pink velvety Rose blossom, soft petals as soft as a baby's skin, but thorns to warn those who would pick it, a "Do Not Disturb" no trespassing sign. To clip it, snip! Like the cutting of the umbilical cord, but to touch it in a tactile manner on its soft blossoms, with no thorns no blood. To gently touch the pollen as it collects inside, an orangey color, powdery as on the Lily, a flower of whiteness, the flower of purity, there being a White Peace Lily as the ritual plant of the Christian holiday of Easter during the springtime.
Pureness, whiteness, honesty, integrity, safety and truth, but most of all: LOVE...
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