A treasured place

Susan Dayley writes in her blog of having a special place to go to read her favourite books, or spend time with her siblings and friends, away from adult eyes. Her's was a willow tree. Mine was a patch of bush with a large trunk of a dead white gum tree in a small cleared area. This was my 'home'. here I laid out my bits of pretty broken crockery, used a small tree branch to sweep around. At times my little brother Billy would join me, and he would march up and down the dead log, with a stick over his shoulder, pretending to be a soldier protecting his home. I was aged from about 7-10, Billy a few years younger. I don't think youngsters of today would be involved in such a pastime. AsI headed towards the teenage years, Water Babies, all the Ann books and the Biggles books were my beloved companions in a small enclosed area of our veranda that had an ancient and decrepit black leather amrchair. That and green apples was all I needed. I shared that spot with no one. I still search in my heart for a little hidey place where I can do my own thing in peace. Thanks for sharing your blog and article Susan.

The Perfect Haven
by susandayley on June 3, 2011
I grew up in a Willow tree.
It’s not true, but that’s how some members of my family remember it. I know I came down occasionally, like at meal times, and for winter.
My favorite companions (with siblings coming in a close second), were Heidi, Frodo, Hans, Jo, and a dozen others that I smuggled into the leafy branches on a warm summer afternoon. I gripped them in my teeth while I swung myself up around the first large branch, twisted around the wide trunk and was able to deposit my treassure in a gap between the four main supports to the canopy above.
I wasn’t all about books. I played as hard as I read, and did my chores dutifully, if not with the same passion. But the allure of our backyard tree, the solitude, the breezes, the greenness, and the triumph of lying back on a branch with no side support, escaping to another world, and never falling out, could not be equaled.
Eventually I grew up (in theory). But I’ve not yet found a sufficient replacement. I keep looking. When we planted trees in our yard, I begged for a majestic hard wood (since a willow was long ago vetoed), but I had to concede to smaller trees that better fit the size of the lot. I wonder if I was subconsciously still looking for the perfect place to read.
Everyone who enjoys a good book, needs a haven