For someone with acrophobia, I spent an awful lot of time as a child a story or more off the ground in trees. We had a treehouse for a few years that was worth the climb up the rope ladder. I spent uncounted hours reading in weeping willows, having juggled a book and usually an apple in my climb. I'd ignore the discomforts of my irregular perch for the privilege of reading uninterrupted, just me and the tree. No one ever looked up.
I have another post up at Quiche Moraine today, back to my usual Friday schedule. This one ended in a place I didn't expect when I started it. I really should have. I know me better than that. It just never occurred to me. Anyway, you can read it for yourself.