“I understand why you come out here, Dad.” He tried kidding me. “Would you mind explaining it to your mother?”
“Really, Dad. I understand now about the whole being greater than the sum of the parts.”
He stopped mixing. “You do? What happened? Tell me about it!”
So I told him about the sycamore tree. About the view and the sounds and the colors and the wind,
and how being up so high felt like flying. Felt like magic.
He didn’t interrupt me once, and when my confession was through, I looked at him and whispered, “Would you climb up there with me?”
He thought about this a long time, then smiled and said, “I’m not much of a climber anymore, Julianna, but I’ll give it a shot, sure.
“How about this weekend, when we’ve got lots of daylight to work with?”
“Great!” I went to bed so excited that I don’t think I slept more than five minutes the whole night.
Saturday was right around the corner. I couldn’t wait!
The next morning I raced to the bus stop extra early and climbed the tree.
I caught the sun rising through the clouds, sending streaks of fire from one end of the world to the other.
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