Here We Go 'Round The Mulberry Bush
It's mulberry season again; has been for a while now. Just outside my bedroom window, I could see the small purple fruit growing abundantly on the large, overgrown bush. It was a beautiful afternoon and I figured it might be pleasing to explore the backyard for a while. The house out of doors had lately become somewhat of an unfamiliar setting for me. It seems my attention has slowly been diverted from those carefree days as a child.
When I was growing up, I was outside just about every day. All my greatest adventures began in the backyard. I could do anything. I could be anyone. The mulberry tree often featured a part in those various stories of adventure and exploration. I remember climbing high to the topmost branches, the lookout spot above the leaves to check for any danger and when the coast was clear, I would continue on my way to the journeys end. While playing around the mulberry bush, the fruit which had fallen to the ground would always leave my bare feet stained a dark purple for days.
I ate a few of the mulberries today. The mere taste brought pleasant memories flooding back, yet somehow I felt the mulberry tree was somehow missing something. Where has the magic gone?