Back then our legs were shorter. And it always seemed there was more time than any of us could ever use.

But, after school and a change of clothes, it was across the street and up the path to: "The White Big Tree". It might have been my sister Susan, that found out that it was good for climbing. But, after the smaller branches broke off and a couple of us just about fell; it was not quite as popular for a while. That tree was taller than we thought we could ever need.

But we keep going back to look up into it. The way I remember it; when you first started going up in it, Everyone could see you. I'm sure my mother was answering the telephone about the impending disaster before we even got that close to any.

But there it was. At a varying height, a place where you did become invisible. Where you had gone, the little kids strained in awe. Some jumped and jumped to grab at the stub.that might have been a safe branch only yesterday.

The rule, as always. Is; Don't look down. If you do, Sometimes you hadn't come as far as you thought. The first few times, It took a while to figure out if anyone could ever get you down for dinner again. It was a big-o-tree. Sometimes; a bird might fly by. And then squawk away so fast, some of it's feathers would fall out.. And if you didn't fall out because of it all. It made you laugh so hard, it was a long time before birds even tried to land close to you.

From it's branches; I made plans that I'm still glad turned out differently. Maybe it's not bricks and mortar, or roads before they were good. But it's a history as close as a wild tree, and the view should still be as good.