I have heard the sound of the lark in it’s assention across the morning sky. I have watched the glorious sun rise long enough to see the skies change from a dazzling purple to a magnificent blue. I have walked through the enchanting trails of the beautiful forest as it glows with the golden beams of the morning sun, splitting through the branches and stems of the trees. Aesthetic pleasure to my inner dendrophile.
I have lived through the joys of more thrilling adventures than I can enumerate. I have glanced at the cerulean sky from the mountains. Surfed the ocean tides and even raced the mighty avalanches. I have tickled my physical senses in ways many only envision.Yet still deep within me is an abyss, a void space, a vast chasm.
Still I yearn to catch a glimpse of the glorious terrain that lies far ahead. Still I long for the blissful experience to be found in watching the crystal stream that flows in the Sierra. Still I crave to set eyes upon a land only spoken of in age old tales, only known in its entirety by its inhabitants and yet still rumoured by many.
Much as I wish I could be present in it’s glory I remain inhibited by the unsettled ocean before me. The raging tides that appear to consume even the aquatic creatures have poured all hopes away. All but one.
The tree, the tallest of them all. With no branches to support a climber and a slippery surface, they say only the foolish would dare challenge Physics to that height. But still I yearn.
So I bathe my hands in the sand for some traction. I put on the roughest clothing from the closet for some friction and brace myself to be deemed foolish!
I wrap my arms around the stem from hell and steadily clamber it. With each push, my instincts give me greater reason to gently slide back down. With nothing but willpower, I keep on. Turbulent winds come storming in and it’s all starting to feel like the death of me. Looking up, a branch in sight! This particular branch appears strong enough to hold me up along with the continual surge of emotions I’m likely to receive at the end of my toil. Panting and slipping, the struggle continues. Looking below, I haven’t much of a choice but to keep climbing unless of course I wish to plummet to my death. My position relative to the ground would certainly obliterate me upon impact. To the far right, the trees appear in bits above the clouds.
Alas, with my hand on the branch I use whatever is left of my arm strength to propel myself to a seat. And there it is! A bewitching landscape with mountain peaks tearing through the clouds. Sunflowers growing beside a stream I always thought was mythical. Overall, it’s certainly a kaleidoscopic beauty! Great green woods with shinning rocks that appear smooth from encounters with the waters of a rain forest. I’m most captivated by the continual flight of birds above the alps. Lost in the beauty, I’m yet to realize that I have not quite figured my way back down.
By : Phanuel Ayelum.
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