My parents live on a wooded hill in the country in Northern California. It is mostly covered in scrub oak trees, but at the corner of the property is a lone pine tree. My mom loves to take a walk to the pine tree.
It was a beautiful day.
We tromped down to the old well house, then up the well road then down the trail to the pine tree.
Dude, how tall is the pine tree?
On the way out Grandma Ann enlisted us to help her drag the wood they had cut earlier in the season.
Often when I call my parents they say they have been cleaning out the forest. I'm pretty sure we will find them both dropped dead in the "forest" someday from overexertion. As you can see, Mom is beating all of us up the hill.
To finish off the excursion you have to stop by the swing. My brother Craig hung the swing in the big oak tree the year we moved to Auburn (1980). There are pictures of all the grandkids at various ages on this swing. Here is my niece Camille (16)
and Anna (5).
It is great to be at home.
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