I've had a love affair with the written word ever since I was a little girl, writing short stories as I sat up in my "Thinking Tree" with pencil and paper.

My "Thinking Tree" was a very old stately maple tree which had low-hanging branches allowing me to grab a branch, whip one leg over the top and flip myself up into the tree. Then I'd climb up to the highest branches which were perfectly formed to create a seat, complete with my own private "writing branch!"

I had absconded with my one of my Grandmother's five-quart pails in which I placed writing tablets, pencils and erasers. I tied this pail high up in the tree's leafy branches, hidden from view, and securely topped off with a waterproof snap-on lid.

One of my favorite activities of my childhood was to climb up high into my "Thinking Tree" and write my heart out. I wrote about everything and anything I thought of in my young mind.

I no longer live near my beloved "Thinking Tree" but can remember the excitement I felt each time I climbed its embracing branches, the warm breeze on my face and mottled sunshine dotting my paper.

I'll always love to write.