A tree house

Every child and many adults dream of a tree house. Somewhere, among the primeval genes that persist in us, are those that recall the arboreal life of our forebears. They persist in the indefinable feelings of identity, of adventure, even of sanctuary, which so many experience in a tree house. I have a tree house, a place both of sanctuary and of delight (Fig. 1). Enfolded in an urban rainforest that I love, I look both out and down; and delight in the beauty of the still green world, enjoyed from the perspective of this private place. Like the tree houses of children’s literature and their imaginations, it is a real place of hospitality and sanctuary.