Boy in an Apple Tree

I was never one to climb Apple Trees or for that matter any kind of trees.  I never like the mess or the thought that you could not get down.  I remember one in my Grandmothers yard.  My father’s mother.  It was a weeping willow tree and it was my favorite.  I never really climbed it but instead at age five used it to swing back and forth.  There was a lot of pretending there.  My mother never liked the idea but Grandma, never cared; she always thought it was healthier to do things like that.  Many times, I swung from place to place and the old tree never grew tired of me.  Grandma never had any other grandchildren except from my father.  We were special to her.  After all, it was a tree, we were people, and a little fun never hurt anyone.

 

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~ by Jim Richardson on October 13, 2008.