Deep in the woods behind our house– okay, technically less than half a mile in the woods behind our house– there grew the spookiest tree in the world. The moment I first laid on it, it gave me chills. Even just the memory of it today gives me the willies. If a tree could be haunted, this one was haunted. If a tree could be cursed, this one was cursed. If a tree could dance naked by the light of the full moon and then go cackling away on a broomstick… this tree surely did.
I found a satellite image of the ol’ woods this morning and was thrilled to find that the Hands-Down Tree still stands. Now, I realize this is a bit like looking at a stranger’s ultrasound photo, but for the benefit of my sisters and some childhood friends, here is the image:
Look! You can still see it! It stands to this day! I hope some other kids have found it and now it invades their nightmares. Um, I mean that in the tenderest way possible. I miss you, old Tree.
The Middlest Sister 
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