I think that I shall never see

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Summer is coming, temps are already in the high 80s and will go another 30 - 40 degrees higher by July and August. I hate the heat. Each year my thoughts turn to a cross country trip we took a couple of years ago, and all the beautiful, cool places we saw. One thing I miss the most here in Nevada is trees. OK, we have trees, but not forests or groves, not like in some of the places I saw. We have scraggly mesquite trees that only grow to about five or six feet. Then there are the cottonwood, tall but spindly. I want the big, full pine trees, majestic oaks, the magnificent tree that are tall, lush with thousands of leaves that change colors. In case you didn't recognize the title, it is from a poem 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. -- Joyce Kilmer