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Trees shed evening’s rain–silver beads in morning light. 

Who expected jewels from the sky? 

Not I. 

If I stood beneath, I could reach out my hand, unfurl my fingers, and wait to catch a drop or two. 

But from the window I’ll watch and view Nature’s work revealed in its canvas of green. 

How smart the branches, the darkened earth; to receive so simply and give back so splendidly. 

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