Life is dull here. The sun rarely shines and the cold persists through April. I find little pleasure in days like these. The puddles aren't big enough for serious splashing but the day isn't warm or dry enough for basketball or four-square. So I am stuck indoors. Which isn't really as bad as I make it sound. I can read indoors. But my favorite place to read is the third branch on the north side of the tree out in the back yard.
I guess I should be more specific because I call it the tree, even though there are about a zillion, because it is my tree. I have hung a swing on it. That is on the south side though (so it doesn't disturb my spot). I don't just read there. It is the absolute perfect thinking spot. High enough up that when i dangle my legs I can't be seen through the leaves.
I found my tree all by myself two summers ago. I was eight then and playing hide and seek with Ricky.
He doesn't live here anymore. He moved from my block to a place called Dupont. I guess that is in Washington by the Pacific Ocean. Sorta close to Seattle. But not close to here at all. I looked on the globe in class and there are three and about a half finger spaces between Seattle and here.
Anyway, he was counting, I think to a hundred, and I didn't want to head for the wood pile like usual so I headed for the little plastic playhouse that was my sisters. It was under my tree; of course at that time it was just a tree in the yard and not my tree yet. When I reached the house I had planned to just climb in and wait and I probably would have if not for two things. One, my sister had a whole bunch of her toys, dolls, and junk filling up the plastic home. Leaving little room for me. And, two, I looked up. Right above the green roof of the playhouse about 2 feet was a branch large enough to support me. I scrambled up the house and grabbed the branch.
Once I was actually up in the tree I discovered how the branches rose. They almost went up like a spiral staircase. When I held on to the trunk I saw there was a branch near me that was only a few feet higher. If I reached that branch I figured I could sit and be unseen. If I stayed I would have to stand until I was found, and new spots always took Ricky a long time. So I climbed up and sat - feet hanging over the lowest bow of needles.
I guess I should be more specific because I call it the tree, even though there are about a zillion, because it is my tree. I have hung a swing on it. That is on the south side though (so it doesn't disturb my spot). I don't just read there. It is the absolute perfect thinking spot. High enough up that when i dangle my legs I can't be seen through the leaves.
I found my tree all by myself two summers ago. I was eight then and playing hide and seek with Ricky.
He doesn't live here anymore. He moved from my block to a place called Dupont. I guess that is in Washington by the Pacific Ocean. Sorta close to Seattle. But not close to here at all. I looked on the globe in class and there are three and about a half finger spaces between Seattle and here.
Anyway, he was counting, I think to a hundred, and I didn't want to head for the wood pile like usual so I headed for the little plastic playhouse that was my sisters. It was under my tree; of course at that time it was just a tree in the yard and not my tree yet. When I reached the house I had planned to just climb in and wait and I probably would have if not for two things. One, my sister had a whole bunch of her toys, dolls, and junk filling up the plastic home. Leaving little room for me. And, two, I looked up. Right above the green roof of the playhouse about 2 feet was a branch large enough to support me. I scrambled up the house and grabbed the branch.
Once I was actually up in the tree I discovered how the branches rose. They almost went up like a spiral staircase. When I held on to the trunk I saw there was a branch near me that was only a few feet higher. If I reached that branch I figured I could sit and be unseen. If I stayed I would have to stand until I was found, and new spots always took Ricky a long time. So I climbed up and sat - feet hanging over the lowest bow of needles.
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