I remember the weeping willow tree in my grandparent's front yard. I would dangle from that tree as a kid -- upside down, right side up -- hanging like the little monkey that I was. That was my hiding place, with its long green fingers stretching all the way to the earth, it was like being behind gauze netting. The wind got in, diluted. Light got in, dappled. I got in, with little regard for whether or not the tree minded me climbing all over it.
Seems to me that climbing trees are getting harder and harder to come by. That wonderful willow, for example, was cut down by the new owners of the property. And so it goes these days. I see trees with fabulous limbs outstretched begging for children to climb them, but the limbs are all out of reach, the lower ones having been cut back "for safety".
Yeah, I had friends that fell out of trees; a couple of them broke their arms. I'll bet not one of them became an arborist. But we enjoyed the challenge of climbing up, and then swinging our feet from the branches enjoying the view we had earned ourselves. We even enjoyed laughing at younger siblings too scared or too small to join us.
Sounds a bit like a corporate job, doesn't it? Makes me wonder if the problem with finding a good climbing tree is that they've all been cut down to make ladders.