Broyhill Walking Park,Lenoir, North Carolina - “The Spring of Life”

But your loyal love, LORD, extends to the skies; your faithfulness reaches the clouds. 6 Your righteousness is like the strongest mountains; your justice is like the deepest sea. LORD, you save both humans and animals. 7 Your faithful love is priceless, God! Humanity finds refuge in the shadow of your wings. 8 They feast on the bounty of your house; you let them drink from your river of pure joy. 9 Within you is the spring of life. In your light, we see light.

Psalm 36:5-9

Broyhill Walking Park - Let Your Light Shine

 You are the light of the world...Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to Your Father who is in heaven.

Matthew 5:14-16 ESV

The Sound of Trees

The Sound of the Trees

by Robert Frost

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.

"Miles To Go Before I Sleep"

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, 1923
by Robert Frost (26 March 1874 – 29 January 1963)