Everyone should have a secret tree. This is mine. This is the tree I would sit under, from the time I was nine years old, whispering secrets and bearing my soul.
You can't tell by looking, but buried deep beneath the moss and bark, this weathered tree holds my inmost thoughts. For twenty years, it's absorbed and guarded the details of my life.
I visited the tree today. She knew me right away, I think. Just like old times, I sat beneath branches and told her things. And just like old times, she listened quietly, taking it all in.
Millie and I stayed until clouds rolled in, dark and heavy. Then we turned toward home, lighter for leaving our cares at the secret tree....