A tale of a tree fort
We were wandering into the park, not far from the entrance when we found it, a fort of sticks and logs, pine branches, even a holiday wreath, woven together there against an old tree seemingly for our enjoyment.
There were not many others out, as the day was brisk, but we stopped and stayed for a while investigating our find and adding our own branches to the construction.
Then we entered it, drawn in by the invitation of a secret place, a place to hide, to lean against the old tree covered in rough bark and soft moss, to look up together at the clear sky.
To find that even here, in the middle of a teeming city of millions, sometimes you can find just the quiet that you need.
There were not many others out, as the day was brisk, but we stopped and stayed for a while investigating our find and adding our own branches to the construction.
Then we entered it, drawn in by the invitation of a secret place, a place to hide, to lean against the old tree covered in rough bark and soft moss, to look up together at the clear sky.
To find that even here, in the middle of a teeming city of millions, sometimes you can find just the quiet that you need.