Imagination Forts : our childhood trees

 

Last week I shared Frances Mayes’ writing from Garden and Gun that eloquently the delight of the Magnolia flower. In it she recounts the delicious longing for our natural springtime perfumes. The reverberating emotional quality of scents from childhood started me thinking about MY trees growing up. It seems most people have ‘a tree’ from childhood. I was lucky enough to have a Magnolia and an Elm. And I'll love them forever. Those memories and scents touch the sweetest spot of nostalgia and pure childhood bliss, that often lies dormant as we grow up, shifting attention to chores that occupy obscene amounts of indoor time- like navigating health insurance, for one

sketchbook close-up

sketchbook close-up

On fragrant neighborhood walks with the dog every day I've been paying closer attention to the long, perfectly green waxy leaves. 

On fragrant neighborhood walks with the dog every day I've been paying closer attention to the long, perfectly green waxy leaves. 

As we begin remembering rough bark on fingertips, wide dappled canopy of leaves, and sturdy climbing limbs, our outside spirits reawaken. My gentle Magnolia tree was ever-ready to become a fortress, a pirate ship, a hideout from cousins, and even a massive leafy hug.

I’m always on the lookout for good climbing trees now. There’s nothing quite like the calm of sitting among large branches to still the mind, and awaken the inspiration and recall those early days of complete, unapologetic imaginative play. Do you have a tree that made you into who you are? A tree that touched the sweetest parts of yourself?

Go find a tree and have a happy Friday y’all!