THE TREE.

Take a look at the photograph with this story.

Here.

Here it is: https://www.50odd.co.uk/the-tree/.

It’s a tree.

Just to the right of the tree.

Your right as you’re looking at it.

Lisa’s right as she took her daughter’s photograph, I mean.

That’s Izobel.

The Tree.

I suppose the tree will be a few hundred years old right now.

And Izobel is 3.

I wonder if the tree worried about what it was for in it’s earlier years?

Like I did in my earlier years.

Like I do now.

And then I remember something.

I remember that if that tree was an oak tree.

(It’s probably not an oak tree.

I don’t know trees).

It wouldn’t have produced its first acorn for 50 years.

And that makes me feel a little bit better.

50.

As George Lois reminds us in his neat wee book, ‘Damn Good Advice (For People With Talent!)’

Charles Darwin was 50 when he wrote, ‘On the Origin of Species.’

Ray Croc was 52 when he emerged as the catalyst for the acceleration of the McDonald’s Restaurants global empire.

Colonel Sanders was 60 when he started KFC.

Frank McCourt, a New York schoolteacher wrote Angela’s Ashes at 66.

And won a Pulitzer Prize for it at 67.

52. 

I’m nearly 52.

I wonder what I’ll do when I grow up?