The Pecan Tree

A childhood memory of overcoming my fear of heights--the hard way.

————

Before age 12:

Put me in a high place

And the fear of falling

Would defeat me.

At age 12:

To break from boredom

Sitting inside the house,

I walked outside,

On a whim,

To my aunt and uncle’s backyard

To climb up

A pecan tree.

Limb by sturdy

Nut-bearing limb,

My bony pre-teen self

Made like an annual cicada

Clutching the bark,

Scaling up, up,

Up and away

To the deciduous

Tower’s highest point.

As my spindly arms

Held onto the super

Steady trunk of the pecan tree,

My eyes beheld

A whole world

Different from ground level:

Many rooves, chimneys, metal TV antennas,

Building blocks to aerial

Suburban stretch for one mile,

Alone in an alien dimension that

Included the top of my house.

The climb up the pecan tree

Was easy.

The climb back down

Was the real

Test of courage. A matter of

Reversing my moves

Very carefully.

I no longer feared high places.

By Dee Allen.

From: United States

Website: https://www.conviction2change.com