I miss those magnificent oak trees that I passed by every time I went to the local post office.  They were only a block away.

I talked once to the man, “Drummy?” who informed me he planted them decades ago.  He lived until 101 and was called the oldest boy scout in the county.

There were only three left.  I had moved away and once was visiting my old haunts.  The last three were gone.  There were holes where the trunks used to be.  They were 100 foot plus high stately oaks.

They were not diseased but were cut down because if they ever fell down, they might do major damage to the three nearby houses.

The trees did nothing wrong and I was glad I did not live in that town any longer because every time I would pass that street I would think of those trees.  I (???) still mourning their death.

I stood at the River’s banks.  Usually after I had coffee and sometimes breakfast at the local diner on the way home I would stop at the bank of the River and gaze out at the surface of the water and the mountains.  I never spent a long time there.

It has been several months since I was at this spot.  The wind was blowing on the surface of water stirring it up.  It was not too cold and not too warm.  Rain clouds were in the distance.

Fall had come.  There was a slight chill in the air although I really wasn’t cold yet.  Coming here is always like entering another world.  Sure I often pass the River from a distance but peering out from its shore is always a different experience.

Too much time had passed from my last visit.  Now I no longer wanted to be here.  It was a little uncomfortable although it still was a mild sixty-two degrees.  I knew I would now only view the River from a distance until it got warmer again.

There was some regret:  too much time had passed since my last visit.  I had missed too much.  Its face is always different:  The lighting is always different on the sky, water and mountains and trees.  Every visit.  I now will await the warmer weather.

It is so easy to take the weather for granted.  Spring is now four weeks in.  I no longer notice it is forty, fifty degrees every day sometimes higher.  Somehow I have to stop anticipating the future weather and enjoy each stage of the spring.

The daffodils have bloomed already along with the primrose.  The day lilies are popping out of the ground rapidly.  The blackberry plants have sprouted.  Now the leaves on the trees are budding and rapidly unfolding.

I need to slow down and observe each step of the spring, do not take any of it for granted.  I still remember the winter day it hit ten below.  Yes, the cold weather is not around as long as it used to be but nature has its cycles and I simply have to observe their daily changes.

The growths are really miracles and I should not let the spring slide into summer and not notice the daily changes.  They are all miracles so do not say they do not occur.  You just have to open your eyes and see the spring unfolding.  So slow down.  They are all miracles.  Just because they happen every year does not diminish the true miracles unfolding every spring.  Do not let them pass you by.