The Hanging Tree

There is a hanging tree not far down the road from my house.  I am not talking about the kind of hanging tree where Bad Bart the outlaw is strung-up.  This hanging tree is the kind used for hanging my hat and, sometimes, a shirt.

I am going to say the tree (a long dead juniper) is three-tenths of a mile from my house.  The tree is just far enough that when I reach it on walks from my house, I will be sufficiently warm enough on a cool day, that I can peel off one layer of clothing, hang the articles of dress on the tree, and continue on.    

Yesterday, not long after sunrise, I opted for a brisk walk.  The morning proved cool enough for me to toss on a t-shirt and long sleeve button-up before leaving the house.  By the time I reached the hanging tree, I was warm enough that I needed to remove both my hat and the t-shirt.   

I did so.

The hanging tree is strange convenience, but it is a convenience.

The Hanging Tree

—Mitchell Hegman