Norwegian Farmer’s Son…August 15th

August 15th…“AS A LITTLE BOY, ON YOUR FARM IN MINNESOTA, DID YOU ENJOY CLIMBING TREES?”

#60=Elliott on Russell's head, Summer 1954
Elliott went from the top of his daddy’s head, as a babe, to the top of the trees on their farm near Kiester, Minnesota.

POEM – “Sights On The Heights” by N. Elliott Noorlun

I had my sights on the heights, To climb our trees,

Ever since I was the size, Of a lil bee’s knees.

Since I was as short, As a “bug in a rug”,

I’d give that branch, A spunky tug.

NFS 8.15b
Young Elliott would say AMEN! to this philosophy 😉

Up I’d go, And climb to the sky,

To see a new view, For this lil guy.

T’was before computers, And smart cell phones,

That blink n whistle, And give off tones.

So to pass the time, And without a word,

I’d climb to listen, To the “tone” of a bird.

NFS 8.15g
A higher look of life up here

The world looked different, From way up there,

As the wind would tousle, My blonde head of hair.

I’d hang on tight, On a strong windy day,

As the power of God, Made branches sway.

NFS 8.15e
Just Elliott, the birds, and the sky!

I loved the aloneness,  Of my kingdom up high,

As I named off shapes, Of the clouds in the sky.

There were times I’d take, Along my knife,

To carve my initials, In the tree trunk’s life.

Or just settle in, To a branch’s wedge,

To relax and rest, Without falling from the ledge.

NFS 8.15c
A muscle maker.

I’m sure young muscles, Must have grown,

From the stretching and pulling, My body had known.

For to get to the height, Of the tallest tree,

Took every bit of grunt, From little ol’ me.

NFS 8.15d
A tasty climber’s delight at the top of our apple and pear trees.

Our orchard held, The tastiest glee,

As I’d climb to eat, From each various tree.

Oh the apples I’d eat, To please this guy,

As I’d watch Dad below, Drive our tractors by.

Then the pear tree next, So sweet they were,

They tickled my lips, With their little pear fur.

NFS 8.15h
Elliott sawed his way up the center of that pine tree.

Even though Pine Trees, Be they sticky with sap,

Were a height to conquer, As I made my “map”.

I’d crawl to the center, Beneath lowest branch,

And then with my saw, I took my chance.

I sawed my way, Along center trunk,

No matter the sap, And all that bunk.

No other short squirt, Got as high as I,

When I climbed a tree, To touch the sky!!! 😉

#668 Aerial of Kiester farm 001
Elliott always had lots of high tree climbing adventures just waiting for him on their family farm northwest of Kiester, Minnesota.

 

 

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