Climbing Trees

I loved tall trees with smooth bark and branches stepped like a spiral staircase around a trunk. These made for an easy climb. Trees whose tops would bend in the wind were best, you could ride them out to the limit of your daring. There was a freedom I found at height - all fears were ground dwellers and barked their fury at the base of trees unable to climb up. I would stay high in a canopy for hours, riding on the soft lift of a dream, far above myself, the world and its hurt. Out of school I would seek refuge in the lofty solitude of a tree and stay there until I was healed before coming down. Now old, unsteady on my feet, I still long for a tall tree and its healing height. I have learned to look up from the ground.