Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Our tree house defines our backyard. Before that, it defined much of our sons’ childhoods. But our sons are grown now. Stross, at 21, can no longer maneuver his body up the climbing tower we designed to accommodate his physical limitations. The structure has become something he visits when his parents are hosting an outdoor event. Skye, four years his junior, also no longer clambers up the tower during imaginary games invented by a cadre of confidantes similar in age. Confidential conversations still occur under the willow, only now they happen late at night while seated in the same spots grownups typically choose. The photo of eight young men that looks like it was taken through a darkened, dirty window spotted with water was taken exactly that way. I clandestinely clicked and then posted it to Instagram for their review and comment. That is how life is lived now. Our boys have grown up. Our sons are young men. I think the tree house has noticed. I certainly have. A few weeks ago, I invited a friend and her two little boys, Zach and Cody, to join Mark and me in a picnic atop the tree house’s tower. They helped me pack a picnic basket before scrambling outside to begin an adventuresome climb to the top. The climb was also adventuresome for their mom, Mark and me. Basket balanced. Steps well placed. Everyone safely seated with a view unimagined from the ground. The magic of the moment lived in their eyes: a bit scared, a bit awed, a bit eager to eat. And soon after their fun began, they were ready for it to end. There were more adventures to chase; more spaces to explore. Time passes quickly where little boys are concerned: our boys, the little boys who were our guests, the little boys and little girls who will visit our tree house in the future or even call it their own one day. That is how life is now. That is how life has always been. Instagram moments. Captured in time. Enjoy a look back: Terrific Tree House = Fun for All . . .