Needles of the pine

 

This is another Daily Walk photograph. I love the way the fallen needles interlace, the varying angles that they form and how one can still see the lawn grasses underneath. It's been quite a tiring day
and this poem by Emily Dickenson (#668) pleases me tonight.

"Nature" is what we see—
The Hill—the Afternoon—
Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee—
Nay—Nature is Heaven—
Nature is what we hear—
The Bobolink—the Sea—
Thunder—the Cricket—
Nay—Nature is Harmony—
Nature is what we know—
Yet have no art to say—
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity. 

Emily Dickinson