I blame the tone of my last post on me being genuinely nervous about my workshop that I'll be attending in a little over 7 hours. I'm starting to feel better about it now but we'll see how it goes.
In early mornings when the first light catches the mist on the leaves they sparkle like prisms with nature's decor. That was when I saw it, standing at the root of the old oak tree. It was dawn and I was out walking. The air was chill from the morning breeze and the birds had just begun their daily songs. I took hold of one of the great limbs and lifted myself onto it. Higher and higher I climbed, through the damp leaves and jutting branches seeking out the treasure that had lured me.
It was there, just above me, round, red, dangling from a string that had wrapped itself on a branch. Maybe it was the oak that had called to it, as it had to me, and when the wind had carried it near the oak snatched it out of the sky. I would get there. Onward and upward I went, pulling myself up higher and gripping the bark, letting the damp leaves brush my cheeks and body as I ascended. I was so close to it now. It was just out of my grasp. I leaned my body down onto a great branch just above my red prize, lay flat on my chest with one arm gripping the circumference of my support and reached for it. It danced at my fingertips as it wavered in the treetop wind. I inched my body ever so slowly, farther out and leaned to my side and made for it again. I couldn't quite grasp it. I closed my eyes and hugged close to the bark and reached again, trusting my fingers to find the string on the branch below. I caught a taste of it and grabbed hold and opened my eyes. The sun was rising higher and shedding new light on me, changing the landscape moment to moment, creating new and fading shadows. I tugged on the string and eventually it broke free. The treasure was mine. I inched myself backward toward the massive trunk of the old oak tree and sat straddling my perch and held my prize, a red balloon, and soaked in the rest of the morning as the dew faded and the world around me awoke.
In early mornings when the first light catches the mist on the leaves they sparkle like prisms with nature's decor. That was when I saw it, standing at the root of the old oak tree. It was dawn and I was out walking. The air was chill from the morning breeze and the birds had just begun their daily songs. I took hold of one of the great limbs and lifted myself onto it. Higher and higher I climbed, through the damp leaves and jutting branches seeking out the treasure that had lured me.
It was there, just above me, round, red, dangling from a string that had wrapped itself on a branch. Maybe it was the oak that had called to it, as it had to me, and when the wind had carried it near the oak snatched it out of the sky. I would get there. Onward and upward I went, pulling myself up higher and gripping the bark, letting the damp leaves brush my cheeks and body as I ascended. I was so close to it now. It was just out of my grasp. I leaned my body down onto a great branch just above my red prize, lay flat on my chest with one arm gripping the circumference of my support and reached for it. It danced at my fingertips as it wavered in the treetop wind. I inched my body ever so slowly, farther out and leaned to my side and made for it again. I couldn't quite grasp it. I closed my eyes and hugged close to the bark and reached again, trusting my fingers to find the string on the branch below. I caught a taste of it and grabbed hold and opened my eyes. The sun was rising higher and shedding new light on me, changing the landscape moment to moment, creating new and fading shadows. I tugged on the string and eventually it broke free. The treasure was mine. I inched myself backward toward the massive trunk of the old oak tree and sat straddling my perch and held my prize, a red balloon, and soaked in the rest of the morning as the dew faded and the world around me awoke.
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