In the 1960’s, my uncle would pick me up to perch on the Tembusu branches. Nowadays, children have huge structures of rope pyramids and plastic slides, but back then, aging trees with low branches were my jungle gym. Though far less stable, I would fearlessly climb the perpendicular branches as though they were steps to a secret hideout. Swinging high, I could oversee the fields of grass and my tiny uncle smiling up at me.