When I was in Astoria last week I spent an afternoon driving around Olney snapping pictures to use in possible future paintings. While I was out driving around, I stopped at the top of the driveway to my old home. As I got out of the car to look around, I was greeted by the present owner of our old farm. He invited me down the driveway (it was a long road) to take a tour of my old childhood home. As I got out of my car at the end of the driveway, I turned around and this is what I saw. Crazy as it seems, I became teary-eyed just from the sight of this marvelous tree. For some reason, I was very sentimental as I stood there remembering all the times Dayna and I had climbed that tree as children and sat up in the limbs in the small tree fort our dad had made us. I loved this tree. It is now so large and majestic looking. The tree fort is gone and the limbs have grown longer, but I still consider it "my tree". Always will.
2 comments:
I need you to tell me how to pronounce that word...I love trees!
I know how you feel. When I went back this last summer the person who bought my childhood home had torn it down and built a small mansion in it's place. The only thing left that was recognizable was the three big Douglas Firs that we hung a swing from, climbed on and built fort in. I had to take a picture even though they don't mean anything to anyone except me and my sibs.
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