Dear Old Maple Tree,

Your branches are so long, your stump so strong.
How long have you lived a top your hill?

Many seasons pass. Your blossoms bloom into leaves bright with green and fall as thin brown sheets. Yet, every year you blossom to reveal the start of spring.
How many springs have you grown to see?

During the harshest of storms, you have never been crippled by the lightening or wind.
Where do you get the strength to stand tall?

But these past years have been different. I have discovered many of your children emerging from the soil. You have grown weak and the new weeds and trees crowd your stump.
So I am writing you this letter because I think this may been your last full season a top your hill. In your life you have taught me so many things.

You stand tall against all forces. You have taught me never to back down.
You grow old, yet never grow dim. You have taught me to always keep life interesting.
And you are giving to your children. Your selflessness and giving nature inspires me.

But the most valuable lesson you have taught me is that actions speak louder than words.

Life is a blooming flower.
We all start as seeds, small and innocent. But with proper nurturing, grow into young sprouts.
From here we learn from the flowers around us, and have dreams to grow as big and beautiful as them some day.
Soon, we blossom into a beautiful mature flower, no longer having to rely on others and show off our colors for everyone to see.
We live our life throughout our season, making other seeds that some day too will turn into flowers.
But when the end of our season comes, we droop and become weak.
We loose our petals and slowly our colorful pigments fade.
Our seeds grow up to be sprouts, but we slowly decay until our petals have all fallen and our stem no longer upright, and die.

The night sky is full of stars
They shine bright tonight
Until the morning sunrise

The seashore is full of life.
The birds swoop down to peck through the sand, finding bugs on their way.
The minos swim beneath your feet as you take your first steps into the warm water of the Atlantic.
Your toes sink into the wet rocky sand.
As you wade deeper into the water, just above your knees, the sudden rush of cold strikes.
The waves burst onto your face, bringing along the salty taste of sea water.
Oh, what is this? A sharp object pierces your toe. Why it's only the shell of oyster, rough and browned with sediment.
You toss it into the distance and watch its puddle echo as the sun slowly sets with brilliant reds and oranges.