Trudging along with their picnic basket of peanut butter sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies, the two children turned to wave at their grandma. She was quietly rocking in her favorite chair on the old wooden porch, humming a familiar tune as she watched the Jesse and Julie walk into the woods.
Packing the picnic for her two grandchildren was an easy task as she had done it many times with her own children. It didn’t seem at all strange to her that even with present day technology, her grandchildren preferred the adventure of the woods to sitting in front of a tablet.
Julie and Jesse had their favorite spot picked out, under the huge comforting oak tree. They had spent many afternoons playing around the old tree and often imagined stories it could tell them. Nothing violent or vile ever occurred here in their safest of places. They knew in their hearts that the tree would protect them if necessary.
The forest itself was so familiar to them, they could play there for hours, read books, draw, or have conversations with tiny imagined creatures. Their grandmother was familiar with the old oak, and relied on it when her children were young, remembering times she loved visiting the tree when she was a child herself.