My Love/Hate Affair

I'm a happily married woman.
Or so I thought.
What happened to those fun things, no, those crazy things I used to do?
Like climbing trees to read a good book?

An unsuspecting tree, this tree has made me ask myself these questions and a few more. I recently moved my desk so that I could glance outside while I work. This tree sits dead center in my view. Look at that crotch! Man! IF I were a few years younger (and not afraid of falling to break something I might need -- like my butt.) IF the tree didn't look so inviting - I don't mind sharing with the birds, squirrels and racoons. IF I weren't so darn practical. IF I had a good book to read, oh wait, I have a Kindle stocked with books. IF I had the time to be a kid again.

That's it...if I were a kid again the excuses wouldn't stop me, not the spiders, the ants, or the scratches I would no doubt earn as I climb. Oh wait! I remember why I stopped climbing trees. It's that stomach racing to my throat as I glance down and try to figure out how to get down...without the broken bones. Yea, and I stopped climbing when the memory became ingrained. Over time I forgot the joys of being young.

But hey, there's always tomorrow and the property managers promise to cut the tree down.

Sorry tree. I hate the fact that you  block most of the sunlight coming through my windows. I do love your beauty and the little critters that scamper in your branches. I hate the seed packets that get tracked into the house. How will I feel as the seasons change? I wonder. How will they bring you down without smashing the fence or building? Will the neighboring trees miss you?