minutes and silently made
his way back to the bed. He reached out his arms and pulled me until my
back was pressed against his chest. No words were exchanged and I finally
fell into a deep sleep beside him.
~
The
sun outside was blazing down on my skin as I lay amongst the grasses and
wildflowers of the backyard. It was May in Florida and every year at this
time, clouds of all shapes and sizes would be floating along the breezes that blew
across the wetlands. A natural harmony of sounds would surround you and
the high pitched birdcalls would complement and contrast with the croaking of
the frogs. Every once in a while you would hear a fast buzzing as the
dragonflies shot across your path. The light would shine off their
incandescent wings when they landed on the marsh grasses, each flutter of their
wings gave the illusion of sparkles.
Momma
used to tell me that dragonflies were the spirits of our loved ones returning
to make sure we were okay. She said that if you saw one it was a reminder
that, even in death, our love for each other never dies. I was five and I
didn’t truly understand the concept of death. I was still attempting to
learn the meaning of being alive and my young mind couldn’t wrap itself around
the idea that we wouldn’t always exist. I believed that all those
creatures were connected in some way; and that I was a part of them as well.
A
turtle popped his head up from the waterline beside me. I sat up and
brushed myself off and I stared at that turtle as he slowly pushed himself
through the water. Small bubbles and ripples would form on the surface of
the water as fish came up to catch insects and other small food. I heard
footsteps behind me but didn’t need turn around to know who was approaching
me. Buddy came up beside me and the turtle’s head went back under the
water from his movement. I squinted up at Buddy and the sun seared my
blue eyes with its brilliant light.
“Wanna
climb trees?”
I
thought about it for a second and then nodded my head yes. He reached
down and took my hands to help me stand up. We ran over to the giant
Camphor trees that shaded the yards closest to the building. Buddy jumped
up to the lowest branch first and then reached down to pull me into the apex
made at the base of the large branches of the tree. Once I was up there,
he started climbing the branch to his right and I went up the branch to the
left. We silently climbed as high as we could go, a wordless challenge to
the other as to who could go farther. I always won these challenges
because I was smaller and could safely traverse the thinner web of branches at
the top. Buddy would watch as I made my way up and I would smile at him
when I realized I had won. When I had gone far enough, I climbed back
down and, together, we would make our way back to the ground. When our
feet touched earth we would race to the next tree and do it all over
again.
There
was a massive cypress tree that grew along the shoreline. It had to be
thirty feet tall and its branches hung out over the water. The bark was
covered with a thin layer of moss and its roots pushed up from the ground into
spikes. I often challenged Buddy to climb that tree but he would never
agree to it because it was dangerous. When wet, the moss on the branches
became slick and it was too easy to lose your grip and fall on the spiked roots
below. I would tease Buddy and call him chicken for not accepting my
challenge, but he was always firm in his refusal.
My
consciousness shifted to a time after Buddy left. I would often sit
outside and stare at the Cypress tree and I decided to climb it one day when I
was playing by myself. It had rained earlier and I decided to ignore
Buddy’s warning about the slick branches. My climb up was uneventful and
I was proud of myself for having made it. I spent a little bit of time
sitting in the branches above the water and I slowly started making my way
his way back to the bed. He reached out his arms and pulled me until my
back was pressed against his chest. No words were exchanged and I finally
fell into a deep sleep beside him.
~
The
sun outside was blazing down on my skin as I lay amongst the grasses and
wildflowers of the backyard. It was May in Florida and every year at this
time, clouds of all shapes and sizes would be floating along the breezes that blew
across the wetlands. A natural harmony of sounds would surround you and
the high pitched birdcalls would complement and contrast with the croaking of
the frogs. Every once in a while you would hear a fast buzzing as the
dragonflies shot across your path. The light would shine off their
incandescent wings when they landed on the marsh grasses, each flutter of their
wings gave the illusion of sparkles.
Momma
used to tell me that dragonflies were the spirits of our loved ones returning
to make sure we were okay. She said that if you saw one it was a reminder
that, even in death, our love for each other never dies. I was five and I
didn’t truly understand the concept of death. I was still attempting to
learn the meaning of being alive and my young mind couldn’t wrap itself around
the idea that we wouldn’t always exist. I believed that all those
creatures were connected in some way; and that I was a part of them as well.
A
turtle popped his head up from the waterline beside me. I sat up and
brushed myself off and I stared at that turtle as he slowly pushed himself
through the water. Small bubbles and ripples would form on the surface of
the water as fish came up to catch insects and other small food. I heard
footsteps behind me but didn’t need turn around to know who was approaching
me. Buddy came up beside me and the turtle’s head went back under the
water from his movement. I squinted up at Buddy and the sun seared my
blue eyes with its brilliant light.
“Wanna
climb trees?”
I
thought about it for a second and then nodded my head yes. He reached
down and took my hands to help me stand up. We ran over to the giant
Camphor trees that shaded the yards closest to the building. Buddy jumped
up to the lowest branch first and then reached down to pull me into the apex
made at the base of the large branches of the tree. Once I was up there,
he started climbing the branch to his right and I went up the branch to the
left. We silently climbed as high as we could go, a wordless challenge to
the other as to who could go farther. I always won these challenges
because I was smaller and could safely traverse the thinner web of branches at
the top. Buddy would watch as I made my way up and I would smile at him
when I realized I had won. When I had gone far enough, I climbed back
down and, together, we would make our way back to the ground. When our
feet touched earth we would race to the next tree and do it all over
again.
There
was a massive cypress tree that grew along the shoreline. It had to be
thirty feet tall and its branches hung out over the water. The bark was
covered with a thin layer of moss and its roots pushed up from the ground into
spikes. I often challenged Buddy to climb that tree but he would never
agree to it because it was dangerous. When wet, the moss on the branches
became slick and it was too easy to lose your grip and fall on the spiked roots
below. I would tease Buddy and call him chicken for not accepting my
challenge, but he was always firm in his refusal.
My
consciousness shifted to a time after Buddy left. I would often sit
outside and stare at the Cypress tree and I decided to climb it one day when I
was playing by myself. It had rained earlier and I decided to ignore
Buddy’s warning about the slick branches. My climb up was uneventful and
I was proud of myself for having made it. I spent a little bit of time
sitting in the branches above the water and I slowly started making my way
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