At the back of our property was a treehouse, a platform really, in the crook of a giant maple tree. I spent endless hours lying on that platform, watching the sky and dreaming. Sometimes the tree gave leaves, and with their stems I stitched a leaf blanket to be cozy. Once the tree watched the fence below gouge my leg, twice, while hurrying over it to the playground. In winter it watched us toboggan down the hill, sometimes into other trees. Mostly, it held me and created space to imagine. I loved it there, and now that special place is in my heart and on the road.