The contrast of shapes and textures is nearly as sharp as the aroma of the pepper tree in our back yard, 67 years ago. Varigated browns and grays define layers of bark while thin danlging leaves offer lacy sunlight. Accents of red berries play hide and seek within the greens. Possible hiding places lurk among the branches after using the board steps nailed to the trunk next to the rope swing my father made.
The best view to my eyes was the blur of green against blue sky as I pumped the swing higher , reaching to touch extended branches with my bare toes. Then back I flew seeing the earth with its chicken scratches in the dirt, inhaling deeply for the next climb. My stomach tingled as my feet stretched to the teasing twigs, hoping to catch them in their dance.
Time to come in, my mother called. Always there are chores and homework. And always I can return to dreamy flights of imagination, soaring higher than rope and board can take me.
Later I will play at canning fruit in my mother's glass jars, filling them with fallen faded red berries.
A pattern for life - my pepper tree adventures. Soaring and singing and dreaming then returning to earth with its chicken scratches and droppings. Earthbound now, I can reach only as far as the rope of life that holds me. Someday i will escate those earth ties and soar away. I wonder if the spicy scent of pepper tree berries will cling in my memories.