Reading In A Tree
Today is like many of the summer days I spent at my grandparents' house in Indiana—except I am writing, instead of reading and I am sitting in a chair on my deck, instead of on a branch in a tree growing in front of my grandparents' house. But the wind is blowing gently under the umbrella, just like it blew through the leaves so many years ago.I don't remember how many hours I spent in that tree...