darkmagnolia

15 Aug 2010 207 views
 
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photoblog image The Sound of the Trees

The Sound of the Trees

Thais, of of my best friends. Always pretty and photogenic. I love how her hair flows. She was tired and taking a break after muddy climbing to the top of this old Fort. The sea was so blue and the day so sunny and amiable one could only sit and enjoy. Thanks, Thais, once and eternal nereid of oour photo sprees! Tongue out 


THE SOUND OF THE TREES

 

Robert Frost (1874-1963) 


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.

The Sound of the Trees

Thais, of of my best friends. Always pretty and photogenic. I love how her hair flows. She was tired and taking a break after muddy climbing to the top of this old Fort. The sea was so blue and the day so sunny and amiable one could only sit and enjoy. Thanks, Thais, once and eternal nereid of oour photo sprees! Tongue out 


THE SOUND OF THE TREES

 

Robert Frost (1874-1963) 


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.

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for this photo I'm in a any and all comments icon ShMood©
camera NIKON D40
exposure mode full manual
shutterspeed 1/250s
aperture f/8.0
sensitivity ISO200
focal length 55.0mm
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NeutralNeutral
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