As a child, I loved to climb trees. Every tree presented a challenge and the higher you could climb the greater the feeling of accomplishment. There was a thrill to look down through the branches to the ground, or out across the surrounding area.
A favorite tree was one of the tallest in the woods where we played. It was not a particular challenge to climb, but the top opened up like a giant bird's nest. Once there, you could stretch out and watch the clouds go by. That is until the day there was a loud crack . . . the tree shook . . . and then came crashing to the ground – with three of us in it.
It is interesting how we tend to lose our sense of adventure as we get older. Perhaps we trade our carefree sense of wonder for the knowledge that comes with age.
an innocent face
filled with curiosity –
the squirrel watching me