My Tree

The tree on my front yard is an oak tree. A very interesting, sticky sort of humungous object. I love sitting under this breathtakingly large tree. It is what I call mine and we will be friends forever. A very old friend, and an extreme lover of my thoughts. One of my favourite memories with this tree was when it was a stormy day, wind blowing, rain falling everywhere. It felt like I was entangled in his roots being all cuddled up. I felt a certain cozy, warm feeling. I just love feeling safe and accepted as a friend that’s why that was my favourite experience with him.  He is where I get all my extraordinary ideas and where my imagination keeps on moving forward.

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3 thoughts on “My Tree

  1. Good personal touch, here, Nick, and a nice arrangement of your sentences. It flows smoothly. Whether writing truthfully or fictionally, convincing your reader of the realness of your experience is really important.
    I would suggest changing one word – the word “fond”, because I don’t think it means quite what you want it to mean.

  2. I like the friendship aspect of this…can you delve into it further and use your “friendship” with the tree to give us a stronger description of the tree?

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