It's quiet under here, under "my" tree. A breeze circles and re-circles around me and runs her hand through the roof of leaves above me. It's peaceful under here. The sun jumps in and out of the leaves, one moment there's a flash of light on my face, the next it plays on my neck or my feet. The grass glistens with a million drops of dew, and the sun makes each one a crystal gem- worth more than any jewel. It's gorgeous under here. Kumquats and satsumas and oranges hang gracefully above creating a roof of orange. The only sounds are of the wind making the trees roar and the hoof beats of horses in a neighboring field. It's perfect under here. Who knows, maybe that's why I like it.