I think that I shall never see...

This morning I had some errands to run in Columbia City. Afterwards, it being such a nice day, I didn't feel like going home - so I went to visit Grandma Jones as well as Grandma and Grandpa Dunfee. Elizabeth Helms Jones is my 4th great grandmother. She died in 1883 and is buried in the Masonic Section of Greenhill Cemetery in Columbia City. Not far from her grave is that of her daughter and son-in-law, Catherine and William H. Dunfee, my 3rd great grandparents. Catherine died in 1903 and William in 1888.

I love going to cemeteries, especially when no one else is around. They are among the most peaceful places on earth. Greenhill is a large cemetery and is usually busy with visitors. But today I was lucky, there wasn't another living soul around.

The graves of Catherine and William lie in the shadows of two large conifer trees. The trees are dying, but they are still magnificent. This first picture was taken in October 2001 and shows the convoluted branches of the larger tree. As you can see it was very much alive, still green. The rest of these pictures were taken today between 2 and 3 p.m. The larger tree no longer has any green needles left. The smaller, taller, straighter tree still has quite a bit of green showing. Please, click on the images to view a larger version. . .

And yes, I know this picture is weird, but I like it! Even if it does make me look bigger than I am. LOL.

Of course, I can't end this without including the poem "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet 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.

From Toucan Radio I learned that Joyce Kilmer was born in 1886, and lived most of his short life in New Jersey. He was killed in 1918 in France, in the second battle of the Marne. Before he enlisted in the army, he was on staff at the New York Times, and as a Catholic convert, wrote religious inspired poetry. He wrote Trees in 1913.