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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Tree  (Read 321 times)
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« on: October 11, 2018, 09:28:02 PM »

I stand in our forest plot sometime in the 80s. Iím with my dad in the summer home in northern Zeeland. Itís October and a little brisk but not cold. A good wind is blowing and the pines and birch sway rustle and groan. Thereís one tree I really like. Its technically on the neighbors plot but weíre on excellent terms. Itís the perfect climbing tree. Some branches are stumps and others protrude with perfectly round and sufficiently abrasive supports for hands and feet. Another tree right behind our house is perfect for a tree house. I was always too lazy to build a proper one but just hammering together a plate the size of half a door and hauling it up in that perfect triangle of branches, fastening it with a few nails. I sat up there for hours. Itís a dreamers platform. And when the wind picked up the tree would sway ever so slightly. Underneath this tree the grass was slightly coarser called ant grass. For some reason ants like this more. A bit duller in color and a bit longer a tendency toward yellow streaks and ants would really be marching there. In a fall day the clouds whipping across the sky as if going somewhere important, fast. It was always so quiet there except when we or the neighbors had a party. The wind causing the house and all the trees to creak. A few times Iíd wake up and see an animal, pheasant or deer, standing in the early morning mist in the clearing right in front of the house. Sometimes it wouldnít notice me looking st it and itís stay a while. But mostly it was just us humans. Dad and I working in the wood felling trees stacking wood, i guess someone painted that house but I donít remember helping. The smell of the lacquer or whatever you call that clear coat. The thick dripping honey
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