The big, old boxelder that grew in the side yard at my house when I was growing up became my sanctuary when I needed privacy or just someplace to get away from it all. It had a double trunk that split into two directions about three and a half feet off the ground. It was just perfect for climbing into and then climbing one trunk higher until I could be hidden in the foliage.
I often took books along with me and spent hours hidden among the dappled shadows, pretending the characters in the books were my own friends or family, dreaming myself into other worlds.
Blackberry picking is one of my favorite memories of childhood. My brothers and sisters and I would come home with buckets of the sweet, dark berries, our faces smeared with purple juice, and our arms scored with red streaks of honor and bravery. Blackberry brambles are wickedly protective of their bounty!