A night spent up a Magic Faraway Tree

This past weekend I slept up a tree. It was surprisingly comfy and not as vertigo-inducing as I expected. But then that’s probably because I was in a luxury treehouse rather than balancing on a splintering branch trying to escape an angry rhino. 


It really was idyllic - like being a kid again and having your own little hideaway tucked away from any interfering adults. We listened to the branches creaking, watched leaves blowing in the wind (well, actually being thrown about by the gale) and spied on unsuspecting campers in the next field. 

Our romantic hideaway

Luckily we didn’t have to shimmy up the tree to get to the treehouse either. There was a cleverly built set of stairs set against an adjoining tree, and a rather rickety swing bridge leading to the treehouse itself. All it needed was Moonface’s magic escape slide a la the Magic Faraway Tree and it would have been perfect.
 

The copy I had as a child

Tucked up in bed the next morning we had breakfast brought to our door (over the little swing bridge which made the treehouse rock quite alarmingly) and feasted on croissants, fruit salad and coffee, feeling like thoroughly spoilt squirrels. 

Of course I then got to thinking about the fact that we don't have any treehouse-friendly boughs in our garden - so nowhere to build Little Bean her own suspended play den when she gets older. I realise this is probably best for my nerves as I know it’s impossible to be a tree-climber without being a tree-fall-outer too. But I also know that as she gets older I'm going to have to let her do her thing. That’s just life, isn't it. You climb high, you fall down, you climb higher still, you get breakfast brought to you in bed. Or something along those lines. 

Soothes bumps - or at least distracts for a while

Lucky for me, climbing trees is some way off - she's still trying to master the art of walking - so I have some time to grow used to the idea. Either that or I can get hold of a tree surgeon to hack down every trunk in her path (just kidding treehuggers, I am one of you).  

Do you remember falling out of a treehouse as a kid?