"So you see, imagination needs moodling - long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering."
I'd like to climb this tree, but first I'd pack a knapsack. Then I'd begin my careful climb. I 'd perch myself on a sturdy branch, lean against the nubby trunk, and unpack my stash of treasures.
I'd unfold my quilt, drape it over a branch, and take out my book. I'd have a grand view of the neighborhood and a secret hiding place, all to myself.
From high up in the air, my feet would dangle. Or, I'd stretch them out in front of me. I'd find that perfectly comfortable position and silently watch the squirrels scurry from tree to tree. I'd wonder about their winter preparations.
Ultimately, my imagination would get the best of me. I'd find myself drawn into the delicate world of birds and squirrels and acorns and chipmunks. I'd watch them and wonder and make up little stories in my head.
Oh, to have a house in the trees.