The Joys of Climbing a Tree

On a crisp September afternoon, I was about to drive home after my final class for the day. But then my friend Vinnie said, “We should climb a tree.” Inspired by another one of our friends who is often seen swinging his legs on a treetop, observing people and nature from above, we decided to join him. Vinnie climbed the tree first, and I thought to myself, ‘When was the last time I did this?’ I must’ve been eight years old, running wild around a park, envisioning myself on a far-away adventure. When did the spark to imagine fade away? 

When I placed my foot on the winding tree trunk, I felt a faint remembrance of those childhood days, along with a spark of something new, a curiosity to view the place I go to everyday from a little up above. And then I nearly slipped trying to take another step. Giggling, I placed my hands on the tree and tried again. After two successful steps I decided I was high up enough, and planted myself just a few feet above the ground, hugging my knees as I witnessed students walking in and out of classes, to and from work, with friends, alone, power walking, laughing, on the phone, listening to music. Some looked at my two friends and I with amusement, others with bewilderment; I felt a wave of calm unlike any I’d felt before. 

I had left my phone tucked away in my bag below me. All I could hear was the sound of my friends’ voices, the wind rustling through the leaves, people walking and talking, cars driving in the distance. All I could see were a few buildings, some cars, the mountaintops, and butterflies passing by ever so quickly. All it took was roughly two feet in the sky for me to realize that in the bustling rush of early semester days, and in the overwhelming weight upon my shoulders when due dates pile up, the wind and the trees and the butterflies carry on. Nature is not in a hurry. 

Climbing a tree completely changed my perspective last semester. I started to open new pockets of time in my day for letting the sun, my friends, and creatures roaming in the dirt recharge my soul, because in the end, isn’t that what really matters? To me, those few steps up a tree I had always walked past and ignored, was what led me to find wonder in the simple discoveries, and joy in what’s so readily available.