The old tree. . .

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.