On Monday, I saw snow-white clouds shifting with spirals like the curling trail of a snail.

On Tuesday, I touched the bark of an old oak tree waiting patiently for young oak trees to join him.

On Wednesday, I heard a woodpecker pounding fiercely on the wood of a beech tree.

On Thursday, I gathered bluebells, daisies and forget-me-nots in a posey fit for a royal family.

On Friday, I walked beside the stream flowing as gracefully as a dancer.

On Saturday, I discovered an old oak as tall as the Empire State Building.

On Sunday, I watched the leaves of a sycamore tree falling peacefully like a water droplet dripping from a leaf.