I tried really hard to pretend that I was a six year old encountering this gigantic sycamore, but you will notice the twenty-one years old resurfacing in my comments. I just can't shake the idea that trees are here, not only to look pretty, but also as our protector. Whoever invented the umbrella stole the idea from a tree. It's so big and pretty. If I was six right now, I certainly would not be sitting here and writing about the tree.
Squirrels have very interesting tails.
I want to be that squirrel running among the fallen leaves and along the tree trunk. Yellow, green, darker green, parched, and crmbly the leaves are. The sun highlights it all. I wonder how the tree would look to me at night. What kind of feelings would come about under this tree, under the moon.