There is a small peach tree in the corner of my yard. It stands unassumingly by a rosebush, collecting the water that the rain has left this last week. The weather is getting warmer and green buds are surfacing: their tiny nodules bursting throughout the branches that are placed so perfectly on it's frame. Random pink blossoms, brought on by the warmth, are popping out and I can't wait until the summer brings it's fruit. I imagine the tree is thankful for the sun and water and with those elements it produces the fruit that i am thankful for.