The Tree

My most vivid memory of my grandparents’ farm is the sloping crabapple tree that graced their back yard. There was nothing particularly special about the tree to anybody who passed by it, but to me it was a fortress. The petite, green crabapples that cluttered the tree weighed down the arching branches, producing a fountain of vibrant leaves that spilled to the ground. Pushing aside the flowing tentacles of the tree revealed a secret cove …

…as the long, summer afternoons would drag on. Although I was jolted from my peaceful slumber underneath the tree, and I gave myself a stomachache from eating too many crabapples, spending my time tucked away in my nature-made haven was a time that I enjoyed and will never forget. The sights, sounds, scents, flavors, and sensations that I carry with me will always remind me of my refuge that I had in the crabapple tree.