An Afternoon in the Tree house

Climbing the rope ladder up the tall oak tree seemed as though it would take forever to reach the top. A beautifully, proud, vast oak with years of embedded roots just behind the house in a quiet area of woods embossed with nothing but the sounds of tweeting birds and chirping squirrels that scurry for the acorns at the base of the tree. Rays of sunlight bead through the trees to warm the wooded floor bottom. As I excitedly climb the ladder to reach my favorite place, I cannot help but imagine what will come to life today. Imagination is free to expel and creative thought is inspired. What will I do today? Will I visit an unknown place? Maybe I will travel in time and become a knight who rescues the princess, or a cowboy running the wild west. Endless possibilities of play are invoked in an afternoon in the tree house.

The tree house nestled tightly in the branches of the oak tree with a wrap around deck to be able to see the house in the distance. Inside the tree house, wooden walls hide the outside world. A small table and chairs centered for club meetings. Snacks and juice boxes hidden away in a cardboard box to share. Favorite books stacked neatly in the corner available to read for the mind to wander elsewhere. Created plans are played out on a chalkboard outlining a minute by minute play of the afternoon that will be enjoyed in the tree house. Maybe I will be a pirate hunting for treasure or maybe an explorer hunting a new land to call my own. The butterflies guide me down the ladder to a rushing creek where croaking frogs and rocks skipping will be the only sound heard. Back to the tree house to sketch the picture in my mind. Remembering the peace, it brings, if only just for a short time.

Sitting quietly in the tree house, sipping on lemonade, I am a child again innocent and free. Maybe I will be an astronaut heading to the moon or maybe a doctor who will heal the sick. Or maybe I will be a police officer rescuing a victim from harm of criminals or a fire fighter saving the lives trapped in a burning building. The afternoon is mine to be whatever I choose to be. The tree house will hold the adventure as long as it stands. Memories that will be cherished forever tucked away in childhood. The wind begins to blow gently as the tree house slightly sways. Shadows begin to disappear on the wall. Looking out the tree house window, the clouds are rolling in from above. Rain begins to fall against the leaves sliding to the ground. But in my tree house, I will stay dry waiting for the storm to pass. Falling asleep to dream of a far away place that only I desire to be.

I dream of an island with white sandy beaches and oceans blue like sapphires. Beautiful palm trees fan the sky and seagulls dive for lunch filling their bellies with tiny fish. A slight breeze is blowing, and the sun warms my face. Tropical flowers bloomed around a covered hut sitting just off the beach. My tree house has taken a different form in a different place. I visit the hut and sit quietly inside. Tranquility consumes my soul while running my fingers through the sandy floor. I sip coconut milk and listen to the crashing waves against the shore. Another place of creation from my mind, my other tree house, from deep down inside. Maybe I will look for treasure along the coast or maybe I will hunt the jungle for exotic animals. I might just collect unusual seashells or explore the island’s end. The afternoon is mine still, whether asleep or awake.

When I wake, I look around to realize that I have returned from my trip, and home in the tree house is where I still sit. Smiling with enjoyment of the afternoon glosses my lips. My only thought is that I cannot believe I am still in the tree house. I sit and stare at the house in the distance wondering if life has come home. Are they hunting the house to find me? I giggle with wonder as I sit looking at the walls of the tree house and thanking it for my escape for the afternoon. Overwhelming memories I was fortunate to have had remind me what this tree house brings to my children. It is their place to be whatever they want to be. It is a place where they can go wherever they wish to go. They will grow and create using only imagination to enhance their visions into adulthood. Once they grow, they will return occasionally for an afternoon in the tree house to remind them of happy memories that they will share one day with their own. An afternoon in the tree house is always a great escape to behold.

As the afternoon draws to end and the sun begins to set, I bid the tree house goodbye. Slowly, I climb down the ladder. I look around to the captivating trees and listen to the birds singing goodnight. The squirrels scurry to their nests settling in for the night. The lights from the house in the distance glow from the wooded trail. I walk slowly down the trail replaying the afternoon in my mind and I am with deep appreciation for the reset from the daily routine. I am met at the back door with smiles and giggles and wonderment of where I have been. My reply is a smile and a hug. “Even mom needs an afternoon in the tree house”, I brag. Laughter fills my heart as to be reminded that age is just a number. Tomorrow will be another day. It will be a day that we can escape together to the tree house and play. Discovery and adventure will fill the day. We will share it together and explore making memories that will last a lifetime and that will be passed down for generations to come. We look forward to the opportunities of having one more afternoon in the tree house.