I Climbed These Trees, Part IV

Sometimes some of those memories seem more dream than a remembered reality. But I know they happened because I have at least three cohorts that share the same memory, and the occasional journal entry. It is now one of my favorite things to sit and reminisce with all my siblings about all of our experiences in that backyard. 

 Surely it Wasn’t a Dream?

Surely it Wasn’t a Dream?

 Wonderment and Fear

Wonderment and Fear

 Remains II

Remains II

 Perfect for Lounging

Perfect for Lounging

 New Growth

New Growth

 Our Favorite Branch

Our Favorite Branch

Wandering through the backyard of my childhood during the Thanksgiving holiday brought to mind Shel Silverstein’s book, The Giving Tree, and how the tree invited the boy to climb it on each subsequent visit the boy made as he grew older. But each time the boy declined because he was too big, or too busy, or too old. Finally, all that remains of the tree is a stump, after having given its wood to the boy to build a boat.

The final sentence of the book, as the boy, now an old man, sits on the stump, keeps ringing in my ear: “And the tree was happy.”

Maybe I’ll give in to my inner child a bit more and climb those old branches. It might just make the tree happy.