I'm in
search of the perfect tree. The criteria is simple – the first few branches ought
to be close to the ground and the bark should be fairly smooth. The branches
should gently expand to allow an adventurous 5-year-old to wedge her feet into
the crevices so she can proceed upward.
In
short order, I'm looking for a suitable climbing tree.
When I
was young, there was a small grove of small trees between our house and my
grandparents' house. My friends and I loved playing there because the trees
offered a shady retreat as well as a great place to hide from the world.
For
hours, we'd wage war with our plastic army soldiers, dig holes and then line the
holes with tin foil to make lakes. When we tired of playing in the dirt, we'd find
a tree to climb and go as high as we could.
I don't
know what kind of trees grew in that stand, but there were enough branches in
each tree to let us shimmy our way up at least 15 feet above the ground. We
made more than our fair share of climbing mistakes, but, as time went by, we
learned a few things.
The
first rule of successfully climbing a tree is making sure there are enough
crevices and branches to use as foot and hand holds. The second is
understanding that when you find a level, sturdy branch, it's time to stop, sit
and dangle your feet in the open air.
Once
settled, I'd daydream about adventures I wanted to take and far-off lands I'd
one day visit. Up there, on top of the world, I was a princess or what I wasn't
most of the time, brave. Eventually we outgrew climbing trees, but memories of
hours spent up in a tree always made me smile.
When I
became a mother, my sons loved nothing better than climbing trees, and they
were much braver than their mother. They weren't satisfied until they climbed
as high as they could, and nothing thrilled them better than swinging on a rope
anchored firmly to a sturdy branch.
So it
was with great satisfaction I heard my granddaughter declare she was looking
for a tree to climb. And like all former tree climbers, I began my search for
the perfect tree for her to climb.
That
quest was harder than I thought it would be.
First,
the trees in newer neighborhoods are nothing more than saplings, and I didn't
find any that could support the weight of a small child. Older trees in
established neighborhoods have had all the lower branches trimmed away, and those
with real promise were safeguarded behind formidable fences.
I found
myself constantly evaluating every tree I saw. They were either too tall, the
trunks were too thick to climb up or the branches were too spindly. Finally I
found a tree for her to climb, but, unfortunately, there was a huge mound of
ants at the base of the tree, and neither one of us wanted to risk the bites.
My
granddaughter was disappointed, but her parents came to the rescue. Early one
Saturday morning, they headed to Brazos Bend State Park where there are
hundreds of majestic trees with low-to-the-ground branches.
Within
minutes, my son, his daughter and his young son were up in the branches while
mom, eight months pregnant, remained on the ground, cheering her family on to
greater heights.
When I
heard my phone beep with a picture of them snuggled in the branches of a tree, I
smiled, the tears forming in my eyes because, thanks to their parents, my
grandchildren discovered a wonderful secret.
They
knew what it felt like to touch the sky.
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.
No comments:
Post a Comment