The smell of freshly mowed hay was heavy in the air like sweet perfume. It came wafting up the mountainside from the valley below. And with it, on the same breeze, came the familiar sounds of the noon bell from the little village church.

White puffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky and my wife Margo kept entertaining me with the animals she claimed to see in the clouds' shapes. There was a cat's face, there an eagle. Or so she claimed.

"Can't you see them," she almost hollered, while she teasingly punched me in the ribs. She finally gave up with a "you just have no imagination".

We were in our early thirties, full of life, and love, and enterprising spirits. The world beckoned to be conquered.

But first I had to conquer the cherry tree. Margo had tried in vain to talk me out of today's venture.

Finally we arrived at my quarry, standing on top of a retaining wall of local rocks, looking at the ripe cherries. All that remained was reaching over to pull a branch closer; and with one of us holding the branch, the other could do the harvesting.

This was a tall, old tree. Getting up the tree from its base was not an option, the trunk was protected by a wide ring of bramble bushes. It was no wonder then that no one ever picked its cherries.

As I stood at the edge of the wall I could feel the fight between common sense and adventure spirit. And as in so many times in my life it was the spirit that won. Margo obviously went through the same mental contortion with the identical result; no wonder, she has adventure spirit mixed right in with her blood.

Finally I very gingerly reached out to the nearest branch. It was just barely out of reach. But I noticed a slight swaying caused by the wind. The branch came a little closer and then retreated a little farther. And so we waited for the right moment.

There, now, keep your balance and grab that branch, - and hold on tight. Well, I did hold on tight because I was swinging in a graceful arc across the bramble bushes eight feet below. The view into the valley from here must have been breathtaking, but I was not tuned in to breathtaking views at that moment.

Margo saved the day. She saw a stick at her feet and suddenly I felt myself poked in my rear end. It made me swing out further, then further still after the second poke. After the third one I came close enough for her to grab my belt.

And yes, I held on to the branch and we gorged ourselves on sweet, sweet cherries.

"You see", I told Margo, "just like life. To succeed you need a plan, carry it out even against adversity. And you need a partner to stand by you, and life will hand you sweet cherries."