It’s winter in Green Timbers,
It’s quiet here today.
The birds have stopped their chirping
And the squirrels have ceased their play.
The leaves have fallen from the trees,
The wind blows them aside.
But still I’m here a walkin’
Not a thing disturbs my stride.
The trail goes on and on ahead,
A very pleasant scene.
The trees ahead are tall and straight,
And always evergreen.
I’m thinking how it was before,
When I was just a lass,
Those trees were small, but higher,
Every time that we would pass!
My Dad was proud to see them,
Growing strong and tall,
As he had planted them some years before,
In summertime and fall.
The planters dug a little space
For every sapling tree,
Between stumps from the grand forest
That tourists came to see.
“Why stumps?” you ask,
“How could they saw majestic cedars,
Huge firs, and then hemlocks?”
They didn’t have the passion,
And lumber money talks.
So as I walk along the trail today,
Enjoying every tree,
My mind says, “May they always stay,
by Ellen Edwards,
daughter of a 1930s’ Green Timbers Forest
planter, John Tompson.