The wind blew through the branches, whistling all the while. I lifted my foot up and placed it down in a nook of the tree. I climbed higher and higher, the voices of my friends falling out of my hearing range. Their cheers drifted away and all I could hear were the leaves rustling against each other. The branches were getting frailer but I wanted to be able to see above the tree; I wanted to poke my head out from the top and look all around my neighborhood.
I stepped my other foot up to match the one already there and stood straight up, using surrounding branches to hold me. I reached into my pocket to get my phone. The panorama I took was going to be breathless. I started to maneuver my feet so I could finish the full 360 degrees, but one of my feet was not moving. I did the little jump to switch which foot was on top, knowing my shot would be messed up. My phone tumbled out of my hand and I dreaded finding it on the ground, shattered into a million little pieces. One of my feet was stuck under a root so I didn’t even get to switch my feet around.
I stayed there for a little over five minutes, enjoying the view, committing every detail of it to my memory for my painting later before beginning my decent down. I was almost down to the ground before I realized I had jumped to the first branch and despite my love of climbing trees, I never liked the jump down. I always hated the jarring motion signaling that I wasn’t at the top of the world anymore.