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The boy in the willow ....

Discussion in 'Chit-Chat' started by T Y L E R, Jun 26, 2005.

  1. T Y L E R

    T Y L E R

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    Summer-stop-felt the tug of my sandals-stop-time to make tracks I figured-go

    Theres a nice circuitous walking trail minutes from my front door, so I stripped down to my shorts yesterday and made my entry. It rolls thru our local college before skirting the outer perimeter of a country clubs greenery. Before you get to the greens you traverse an open portion of trail. Really it's a road that connects the dots. The road is dotted with some really nice homes. Some are brand new, others a number of decades...and one in particular, set back from the road, had dropped off the temporal map. A forgotten shamble of pebbledash and weathered shingles. Roof lines sagging as though in the clutch of some overly curious giant.(Any two-leggers under this shack I wonder .. Mmmmmmm).

    As I took in the delapitated ediface, I panned back as an enormous willow tree entered my field of view. In the middle of this framed sanctuary was a tree swing. It swung not, but instead hung steady with only the slightest jilted pendulum motion, countered by the opposite support .. but in cadence with the hot summer breeze jetting thru the landscape oblivious to the oppresive heat.

    A smile creeped into the corner of my mouth. An expression of recognition. What would I offer up, if only to be eight years old once more...nestled safely in the upper clutches of my own enormous willow tree? With a trunk 4 or 5 feet across it was surely 3 stories tall. Towering over the neighbors, the streets, the city. From it's very upper perches I could see tomorrow on the horizon. In the midday sun great lakers could be seen pushing thru the canal between Great Lakes; their seabound sojourn in it's infancy. Dreams would carry me away, and often I would very nearly pass into a light sleep, though usually a deep sense of self preservation would tug me back. Back to my eight year old reality .. cicadas, monarch butterflies, nunchkus, soccer, my Belgium hare, family and friends .. the public pool 2 miles walk away ... But the tree. The tree was the centre of all that happened in my world; whether reality, or day dreams dreamt under it's weeping bows.

    As I strolled by recounting my own roots, nursing a ever widening silly grin, I caught my gaze rising. Higher and higher .. searching, scanning .. half expecting to see the boy in the willow tree. A reflection of myself; beginning again.

    I always was adept at keeping hidden... ;)


    TY
     
  2. White Shark

    White Shark

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    Good read. It brings back memories in Grandpa's tree. The same one that CookieMonster fell out of when he was 5. :D
     
  3. crushers

    crushers post ho SILVER Star

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    very poetic,
    nice read...
     
  4. Cruisin'Carolina

    Cruisin'Carolina

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    damn.....you need to get writing some more.

    Good work.
     
  5. chuglife

    chuglife

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    so T, did you start a blog? if so, link? needs to go into the faves....
     
  6. T Y L E R

    T Y L E R

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    Aww shucks ... :eek:


    Chels I never did get anything on the Net. The makings of it are there, but my God .. how do people go on and on every day?? I go in fits. When I do get it together it will include some of my writings. For now I'll gladly settle for my MuddyBlog .. that is, if no one objects to my interlacing my drivel with dogs, guns and politics :D



    TY
     
  7. IdahoDoug

    IdahoDoug

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    Man, that's nice stuff. The last paragraph stopped me in my tracks with the way you caught the world of a little boy whose world will soon exponentially expand until the things he touches and sees no longer define the edges of his existence. They remain the axis of that new universe, and many years later the lucky ones of us can still catch a glimpse. Bravo...

    DougM