Tuesday, April 21, 2015

So Close Yet So Far

So Close, Yet So Far

By:  Holly Mitchell

So Close, Yet So Far.

By:  Holly Mitchell

The air is crisp as I stand in front of the magnificent oak tree.

The wind blows my hair about my rose colored cheeks and nose.

Today is a good day to climb this giant of trees.

I reach out my hand but it's barely out of reach.

So I jump with all the strength my legs can give me.

I catch hold with a hand; I am now dangling a foot off the acorn covered ground.

I'm now swinging back and forth, kicking and scrambling with my legs, as I try to find a foothold.

Finally my feet wrap around the branch, I feel like a sloth in the Amazon jungle.

I then pull with all the fibers in my body to propel myself onto the branch,

I am panting from the strain, but I have a feeling it won't be the last time I’ll need a breather,

Soon my breathing is back to normal, I crouch on slightly shaky legs, my hands grab for the next

branch that's a little above my auburn-brown hair.

I clutch the rough bark in my moist hands, and then pull up with all my might.

Soon I'm scampering up the trees limbs, climbing, squeezing in places I did not know I fit,    

crawling between low hanging leaves.

The sun has become a ball of fire in the morning sky.

Now I am near the top of the tall oak tree, I can see lush green meadows in every direction, and the

glistening ribbon of the ocean blue as the sun's light bounces off it.

I only have a few more branches till I reach the very top of the oak tree.  My body is soaked, I can

feel perspiration slide down my chilled back.

I stretch out my flush-colored hand which suddenly feels sticky. I look down; my palm is covered in

the tree's gooey brown sap.

I attempt to wipe off the annoying substance, but fail miserably. So I try to ignore it the best I can as

my hand sticks to every branch and surface I touch.

Soon the branches are swaying and moaning with the effort of holding me away from gravity.

I'm almost there; I can feel the anticipation building up inside of me. I can do it, I tell myself, I am

almost there.

I reach up, I snatch the last thinning branch of the great oak tree in my hand, yes I’ve done it, I’ve

truly done it. 

Then... I hear a heart-wrenching crack.

Suddenly I am falling, falling. “No!” I moan.

My goal was swiped from me like a horse swipes a fly with its tail.

I'm still falling, ever falling; I hit one branch then another.

My world has become a tumbling motion of green, blue, and browns.

Oh the pain that shoots through my body.

Then my world becomes silently black.

My eyes flutter open as the light of the setting sun shines through the oak tree branches.

I am laying on the sun baked ground, I moan slightly as I attempt to move each and every muscle

and bone in my body to make sure nothing is broke.

    Thankfully nothing is broken; I’m just bruised in every imaginable place and might have sprained

my ankle and wrist.

Slowly I rise from the hard earth ground.  I lean heavily against the coarse tree trunks bark.

I am taking deep, gulping breaths as the pain is coming in wave after wave.

Slowly it subsides; all that is left of the agony is a dull headache.

Finally, I have gathered enough energy to try and stand.  

I painstakingly reach for one of the trees new growth stub of a branch to help me up.

It takes me a full minute to finally stand on my two shaky legs, but I can feel the strength slowly

returning to my beaten body.

There is a dead branch laying on the ground next to me, with difficulty I pick up the branch, it will

make a good walking stick to lean on.

I shuffle my way out from underneath the great oak tree, I am now hobbling my way home.

I cross the darkening green meadow that's covered in lazy yellow sunflowers and turn with a look of

determination at the majestic great oak.

As I stand there leaning on my temporary crutch for support, I whisper a promise on the wind, as it

rushes past me on its way to the ocean blue in the distance.

“I will come back one day my friend and I will make it to the top of your branches and behold your


Then I turn, with my back to the great oak and my purposeful face toward home.

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