In a Wild House, from a Wide House...

In a Wild House, From a Wide House


I do remember being small enough to ride my trike down the pathway to the gate and back again. About a 2 Yard length track was our runway for the trikes and we had the best time riding back and forth up and down the pathway. I remember when my parents had that pathway laid and the back door put into the house at 113.

The sight of a possible wild mimosa tree coming up, in my makeshift garden, today, delighted my heart beyond measure. I remember wanting to climb the branches of our delicate mimosa, growing up. We certainly would have broken it down to nothing, had my mother not protected it, as she did. Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! I want the feathers to make something. I want to touch the leaves that are so delicate. The apple tree was too tall to get up into the branches, but the mimosa was so luscious to consider and we could easily have made a catapault for one of the little ones to launch them out into outer space somehow. Don’t touch it! Okay! Well, I never got to launch one of my siblings from its branches, but I did see how it closed and opened when I brushed its leaves. I did touch it, ever so gently and see it respond to my every motion. {what a precocious child I was?} Can’t we tie one of the children to the tippy top and see how far they get? No! Okay! We rode the bikes back and forth past it and had races and it heard every word and cry that happened in that house, my mimosa. I always wanted one. And now, it looks like, I might have one coming up, completely, by accident. Wow!
We are so blessed.