She moved around the trunk to approach it from the other side. The teepee-shaped opening was there, a triangular door in the bottom of the trunk. She knew that inside the opening was a roundish chamber, large enough for several adults to stand upright. She thrust her head in and checked for snakes before stepping inside. There was the familiar woody-musty-green smell, mixed with dust. She cricked her neck and stared up the long, chimney-like opening to the top. A circle of sky was framed in crisp oblong leaves.
She admitted to being childish, but she would have been heartbroken if the tree had fallen. It had been a vital part of her childhood, and it was a treasure she would have hated to lose. As she moved out, she looked up the trunk and smiled to see the steps her grandfather had naile
