Andrew in the Trees

ANDREW IN THE TREES

Andrew loves trees.
I’ve never known anything as wonderful
as Andrew in the trees.
Perfect tiny hand grasping hairy calloused finger.
Stepping through ankle deep grass
he notices his shoes
won’t let his toes touch the grass.
He pulls me to a stop
and plops on his bottom on the ground
and tries to pull them off.
He grins that grin up at me
and points to the ground for me.
Knowing my place,
I plop down, too
I pull off both shoes and socks,
revealing his marvelous toes.
He lies back quietly and looking up and back,
notices the trees above him.
With a sharp intake of breath, hahh!,
he quickly points over his head
then looks at me in surprise and amazement.
Yeah, Andrew, trees.
He rolls over on his belly
and points again.
He tumbles his way up
and points to his feet giggling
before he runs toward the nearest tree.
He spys a gnarled root and follows it to the tree
looks up the bark to the branches.
At last he sees the leaves hanging over his head.
He points with that quick intake of breath that lifts him to his toes.
Ahahh!
He trots the few steps back to me
with his arms reaching up
and barely audibly says, “Hup”
I lift him to the low-hanging branches
and his tiny little fingers play with the leaves,
awe-struck, Ooooh, aahhhhh.
And an occaisional surprised Ahahh!
until my arms could do it no more.
I put him down and he giggles softly
as his feet touch the grass.
We totter back to his shoes.
Perfect little hand clutching callused hairy finger.
Forever, I could do this forever.