When I was a kid, I used to climb trees.  I'd take a book up with me, or a pair of binoculars; I told them they were good for watching birds, but really they were better for watching the neighbors' affairs.  Sometimes in the spring, when there were bees, wasps, caterpillars and asps, I would get trapped, stuck in the tree. Staring at whatever stinger lay below, I would watch it and wait until I could yell loud enough for my father to hear and come out to catch me when I jumped out and over the insect, or until the damned thing retreated on its own.  Sometimes I waited for what seemed like hours.

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