Climbing a Tree
I climbed a tree the other day. I honestly can’t remember the last time I did that. I vaguely remember climbing the tree in our front lawn when I lived in town as a kid, but that was before the 3rd grade and since then I can’t remember ever being an avid tree-climber. But the other day (and this morning for that matter), motivated by my daughter’s desire to munch on some guava, I scurried a few steps up the tree before the thinning branches and my substantial weight dissuaded me from climbing any higher. And though I was under 10 feet off the ground I felt like a freckle-faced kid in overalls and bare feet (Huck Finn, anyone?) except replace bare feet with sandals, overalls with khakis and a t-shirt and freckles with, well, nothing. So maybe I wasn’t like that kid at all, but the long and the short of it is it felt good to act like a kid again.
