First day (back) in Indiana

Each time I return to my parents' house I climb my sycamore tree. I planted it twelve years ago--when I was ten--and have watched it grow. Climbing this tree brings me a lot of joy. I always climb it slowly, inspecting the progress, pruning the dead limbs, and stand on each of its branches that is strong enough to support me. Sycamores typically grow quickly, mine grew so quickly that at one time many of the limbs were too heavy to support themselves and some of the worst broke off because the weight was too much for the limb to sustain. I remember when I could jump over it, when I could wrap one hand around the base of the trunk, then two hands, now I need both arms. The tree was the tallest in our whole half acre yard, even though it was still very young, until a severe lightning storm came with all its wrath, removing the top third of my tree. Fuck you massive electron discharge. The tree had a new beginning, and today I noticed how healthy it is, even though it's not as tall as it once was; all the branches can fully support themselves, they're all strong and beautiful.