“My favorite childhood place”
As a child I loved spending time by the “ole mango tree”, With its shiny green leaves as a huge, green blanket that kept me cool and warm and blocked out the beaming sun, it was the place where I freed my mind and calmed my soul, the tree would often creek and dance in the wind, shaking the branches and leaves, that made the mangoes fall, the tree was quite productive and attractive it was a landscape specimen to passersby, the tree was rich in colour, evergreen foliage of different shades that would make people stop and stare, they were amazed by the number of ornamental, edible mangoes this tree would bear so many times in a year, its spider legged branches were sticking out every where, I would have often go up and sit as if it was my tree chair.
The tough tree trunk I climbed so high, was as a wrinkled old man, but tough, strong and brown, there were many cracks and holes that made it quite easy for me to climb, in these holes had so many little insects that lived there, I never seemed to have bothered them, the thin branches I hated so much because they were used as my rod of correction.
The crocked steps that twist and wine its way down to the tree, was wooden with a few mosey concrete patches to hold them from falling in, I could have barely walked down those stairs, cause they were so close together, I would often miss a step or two when I ran down.
The best part of being by the mango tree was having fun with “high tyre” she was the best, I loved her so much, she hung from the strongest branch of the mango tree, her braided ropes held up the greasy tyre from my father’s van, it was quite uncomfortable but yet quite fun, days when the sun was really hot, you could smell her rubber, I swung so high on her I would have seen over the fence into the neighbor’s dusty yard, where I would have many times saw the heap of rotten mangoes that fell from the tree and Miss Telmar just heaped them aside.
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