This tree has been around as long as I can remember. It was there when I was younger and it is still there now that I am older. It does look like it is going to fall into the Fox river and it has looked that way fro quite some time. This used to be a quiet place to think and swim and fish on those hot summer afternoons. Today someone has found my tree and made it a park with port a potties and paved roads to get there. The only way I knew to get there was to go by train trestle. There were three of us and we could not take our bikes because they would just be in the way. The trains rarely came but the path was so rough you would just wind up walking the bikes to where we were going. To the tree, to the place of summer refuge.
To the left of the tree where you can not see was a meadow. It was a great place to make a fire and cook the fish we caught. Well I always wanted to cook the fish but I hate fish. It was the camaraderie that I liked. Our shared secrets and personal stories. We all came from poor and large Catholic families so the issues were always the same. Food and privacy were scare and this was just a little piece of heaven for us.