The Golden Tree

Across the street in my neighbor’s back garden lives an old, old cottonwood next to a stream. The tree spreads is branches out way across the lawn over the creek and the path that runs along the creek behind the garden. If you are walking along the path you might by chance find a tiny gate built of twigs and branches taken from the tree. It is hidden behind bushes making the joy at finding it thrilling. Quietly tiptoeing up to the gate you are quite sure you will see fairies on the other side. The gate swings open with ease and there you find yourself in a wild garden where there should be fairies. It is truly magical.

The old cottonwood has turned golden this week. Standing in my garden in the late afternoon when the autumn slant of the sun’s rays graces the tree I am awed by the beauty of this tree. I sigh with pleasure.

Neighbors meeting on the street say to one another, “I’ve never seen the tree so lovely.”

We say ‘the tree’ because we have come to know it is the tree of trees in our neighborhood.

The best part about the tree is that there is a swing hanging down about thirty-five feet from a high branch. Neighborhood children love to swing high and away across the wild garden. We hear them squealing with delight and fear as one flattens herself to the ground while another flies overhead on the swing. Golden leaves flutter down all around them making swirls in the air when the swing passes.

This is truly life at it’s best – a blue autumn day under a golden tree with a child in a swing.
Jesse