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