One of my earliest childhood memories is when I was three. My mother pushed my crib into the upstairs bedroom window of our old farm house and I lay there looking up into the branches overhead swaying in the wind. These were tall elms-bare branches in the wintry blue sky. I felt as though I floated with them in deep blue.
Contributed by Kirsten Christianson, Algoma, WI
Treewhispers 
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