My friend Mildred wrote recently about a large tree located at her childhood home. She mentioned how her Dad made a swing for her and she spent countless hours on that swing watching the clouds take on shapes.
Isn’t that a dreamy sight to imagine? Nothing to do, but watch the clouds?
*taking a few minutes to daydream*
Ok, I am back.
Mildred’s post made me think of the large tree in the backyard of my childhood home. It was a great climbing tree, which also meant it was a good ‘falling out of’ tree as well.
I recall one specific day (after recently visiting the circus) that my brother thought I would make a great trapeze artist.
It made sense to me too. After all, I was small, bendy and easily persuaded.
I recall the rope in the tree and Mark hoisting me up; my string bean arms reaching out to it.
I held on to the short end of the rope, while Mark had the long end…and he began to spin me.
I spun in a circle one time, lost my grip and proceeded to land on the large roots at the base of the tree.
I immediately had bright red blood bruises up and down a thigh.
My trapeze career was short lived.
I am thankful I stood my ground and I did not try this as Mark had originally planned, with me holding the rope by my teeth.
You can see that HE was the adventurous one in the family, as long as the adventures involved ME.
*I found an ariel view of our old house on Google earth..and that big ol’ tree is still there!*
Trapeze photo borrowed from: http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3427/3962743952_ca02dfb44c_b.jpg