The littlest tree in the forest belonged to me. I called her Sally and years later I would name my own dear daughter after her. She was poking up through the grass at the base of an old Oak Grandfather when I found her as I was exploring the hills and woods near our home. I was 12 years and 42 days old; I know exactly because I had been determined to count each day to my next birthday for I was convinced that would be the year I finally got a pony.
Finding Sally was so accidental I nearly crushed her in doing so. I had been climbing absently up the gnarled trunk of the Oak with my eyes more on a delightfully fuzzy caterpita' (as I called them for far too long) than on the tree, and I slipped, sliding all the way to the bottom and onto my side. Before I could consider hurting or crying, I spotted the little branches sticking magically up through the shady grass in front of me.
Oh and what magic! Before my eyes was a wonderous world in which I was the size of the sun itself and a lone tree spread its lopsided roof of leaves out over the overgrown hillside. The old oak's leaves rustled as a breeze whiffed by and a sliver of sun crossed my cheek and bathed my little kingdom in gold.
"Why hello," I said in a voice just as golden, "I think we are to be wonderful friends."
We were word-mapping words related to a tree, I believe. The idea sprung out of the word Bonsai, and you can guess what type the littlest tree is.
ReplyDeleteThis is my favorite. I enjoy your writing when it's not in its technical form! You make it easy to visualize the setting here.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I feel this one has the most heart, but I quickly got into shallow creative water in my head as I have no idea how a woman's/girl's mind works and that was the main character! I think it could make a nice children's or young adult story perhaps.
ReplyDeleteSo stick to narratives and keep the syllables down is what I am hearing. Excellent advice!!