1980, and every tree I remember was a willow.  Beneath the leafy, sunlit arched canopy, I’d turn backwards somersaults and break only to enter a game of Freeze Tag.  The spiral fence that separated my yard from Carley’s was home base.  The buttery yellow honeysuckles weaved through the fence fragrant and strong, and when the breeze blew through them they’d wave softly -- and I don’t ever remember a day that it rained.