Cherry Tree

For some reason, I have found myself thinking about the cherry tree in the backyard of our house in Colorado. I've been gone almost four years, and I wonder what it is like now. Is it even still alive, or has it succumbed to old age?
I loved that tree. It was easy to climb, and so all us kids climbed it. I got so good that I would scale the branches in bare feet, a few times in a skirt (good thing the tree was in the backyard). The branches were arranged just right so that we could climb up and sit. So there were many times I brought a book into the tree with me and would sit there reading.
And of course, the cherries. These weren't the kind of cherries just picked off and eaten, although we did that, too. These were sour cherries, the ones for baking pies and cherry crisp. It was always amazing to me how the tree could make so many cherries. We never harvested them all, because the birds inevitably were the only harvesters that could reach the highest branches. There was one year, however, when we had the largest crop of cherries ever. Some robins had built a nest in our cherry tree and defended it against any other birds. They took their fill and we got the rest.
The process of pitting cherries is probably one of the most tedious I have ever experienced. When your parents set you down in a chair and say that you will be helping, there isn't really any way of getting out of it. As I got older, though, I could imagine the cherries being made into pies and desserts and that somehow made it more bearable.
So now, I am feeling this longing to pick cherries again, to feel the bark of the tree beneath my fingers. I can still see the oval shape of the leaves and their serrated edges, the small slivers of curly peeling bark, the fragrant white flowers. Someday when I have my own house, I will have my own orchard including, of course, a cherry tree... maybe two... or maybe three.
~Jessica