The image captures something of the old Bois D'Arc tree standing next to the driveway in the house in Richardson, Texas where I grew up. So many memories remain etched in my mind about that house and this old tree. Of course, the tree remains in place beside the drive as I remember it. The tree is permanent. It's stood there for a very long time. It is much, much older than I. When I was a child, it filled the position of one of the constants of my life. I climbed in it. Shot BB guns at it. Hid behind it. Studied it. Spied on my best buddy from a perch up in its substantial limbs. This tree serves as a reminder that my life is very short and other realities matter as much or more than my concerns. I love that old tree. Every time I pass my home place, I look at this tree.