Children climb trees in our neighborhood. They’re so enticing, those almost-out-of-reach lowest branches, beckoning, stirring up a quickening to climb. One good, big jump, a well-placed kick off, a big reach, and the right grasp to pull the body up behind. From here, the branches are much closer together, making higher heights easily achievable.
It feels good to be high up in a tree, perching relaxed on a branch as any wild thing would. The neighborhood and the whole world with it look different from up here. It’s quieter and the feeling of adventure and potential for greatness permeate the air.
The time always comes to climb back down, but the descent is not as easy; it’s scary to jump down when there’s so far to fall. But there’s always a friend nearby to run and collect the tall, gentle father to pluck his stuck child from the trees, into his arms, and place them safely back on solid ground.
Above is the result of a 10 minute writing on the theme of Adolescence as given in the Creative Nonfiction Writing class I am taking through the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. Written February 12, 2019.