"Mom", the boy says, "we need to get more trees, I've climbed every tree on this place!" "Well, maybe when my legs get longer I can reach higher branches."
As he ascends, wide eyed and alert, he inspects each snarled branch for ghosts, shadows of what were, all while listening to what they are now. The prize, swiftly added to his collection of tree treasures, a cicada shell.
Boys will be boys....and I love that!
I find it amazing that as loud as they are, and what seems to be as numerous as they are, I so rarely see them or their shells.
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