"From small acorns, Oak trees grow." Or so the saying goes.
I first came to this forest when the spreading horizon could be seen and dear bounded over fences for cover. Perhaps they still do, but now my view is blinkered by the trees that spread around me and throw their silhouettes to the ground.
Reaching up I grasp a familiar bough and haul myself up to a higher level. I've been here many times and it takes little effort, yet with each visit the view is always a little different. Without stopping to consider this implication I leap into the air, closing my eyes and opening my hands in unison. Branches rest into my palms and bark makes contact with my feet as I run up to the clouds. Here I rest nested against the trunk, high up in the canopy.
In the breeze the tree rocks me gently and for a moment my eyes close again as bird songs transform the sullen atmosphere into a rich auditorium. I could be forgiven for pretending I was the last survivor, but the shadow people have already seen my entrance and I am not alone. They sit amongst the leaves, suspended in this chain-link reality like herrings dangling in fisher-mans net. Their thoughts spiral towards me and I clench them firmly in my fist.
First to greet me is Nan , with her shadow being as strong as ever. Next I catch a glimpse of Robin, her bright aura distracting me from Steve's reassuring outline. To the right Jim calls out, greeting me with an exclamation before Muse causes me to catch my breath. Smoke, drifting from Paul's shadow brings me to my senses once more, just in time to feel my fingers pull together when the soft yet powerful Debra makes her presence known. Then before the chatter can descend into a cacophony, DrKens humorous mist disperses ripples of mirth into the scene. Perhaps it is within my mind, or the caused by the birds that hop between the twigs, but today there seems to be a true abundance of “Life on the Skinny Branches”… |
