Dawning Creations

I miss the pulling, the inner drive to reach higher and higher. Climbing up and out, balancing on the very tip of the branch and I would bounce, challenging it to bend.

Higher and farther, up and up, sweat would dampen my brow, my clothes.

I miss my aching muscles, stretching and straining my neck to see all under me. Tired and shaking, I’d balance myself against the fat trunk until I was ready again.

The hardest part was and still is finding my way back down.

About the poem and photo: This is a massive willow tree that has been huge even when I was a small child . My family would come here a lot when I was a kid and even when I entered my teenaged years. Just yesterday, my mom and I decided to pay this place a visit. It felt really amazing standing on top of the old sliding board and looking down. I felt like I did when I was a kid climbing trees and then the poem came. This place is very inspirational to me because my dad, sisters, cousins, mom and brother all did games together here and all aspired to climb the giant willow. There was no feeling like it. It took a tremendous effort for me to get anywhere with the trunk being so massive. It still looks humongous today. I love that about the willow. The sheer height and mass still makes me feel small and makes me feel as if things aren’t so different. Here are some other shots of the park.