Many years ago, my father and my oldest son built a fort from trees they'd cut down in our own woods. My father designed the treehouse, and it even had a tower from which Boy in Black hung a yellow, orange, and green flag. I think it was the flag of the Congo, which he'd made for some kind of project at school.
From the kitchen window, I could see the treehouse at the far edge of the backyard, and I could watch the kids when they played in it.
Of course, Boy in Black is in grad school now, and even my youngest child is seventeen. It's been a few years since anyone played in the treehouse. I took the ladder away when I realized the logs had begun to succumb to the relentless eroding weather. More recently, the whole structure has collapsed, to be buried under the winter snow.
From the kitchen window, I could see the treehouse at the far edge of the backyard, and I could watch the kids when they played in it.
Of course, Boy in Black is in grad school now, and even my youngest child is seventeen. It's been a few years since anyone played in the treehouse. I took the ladder away when I realized the logs had begun to succumb to the relentless eroding weather. More recently, the whole structure has collapsed, to be buried under the winter snow.
4 comments:
That's kind of sad....
Lovely photo.
L.
My husband needs to build a tree house now! Before the girl is too old!
The photo is lovely in its sad decay.
It's sad but fiting, no? One day that forest will be some other child's playground.
That photo is a lovely emodiment of the relentless march of time.
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