Week Number Whatever- Back to my Roots on a Beautiful Day

When Wednesday rolled around, I looked back on the days since my snowboarding adventure, and realized that all I had done to get my wiggles out during that time was go on a boring run or an even more boring trip to the gym. Once again, I found myself under something of a time crunch to do a blog worthy activity. Fortunately, Wednesday was a beautiful day, so it was not difficult for me to find inspiration.

Such inspiration came to me as I was riding back from my guitar lesson. The beautiful weather got me thinking about how the outdoors was always a sacred hiding place for me as a child, and  how when I was by myself in nature, I felt more at home and  in control then I ever could feel while at whatever school I was attending or at home with my stressed out single Mom. I thought about how when I was upset as a kid, I would go scamper up a tree, where I would bird watch,  throw stuff at passing cars, and ponder whatever was bothering me. That was when it hit me- I should go climb a tree!

When selecting a tree to climb, it seemed pretty crucial to me that the tree was coniferous. This is because the deciduous trees do not have their leaves about them this time of year, and  the lack of cover would mean that everyone could see me climbing. I figured that the people of Penn State had been alarmed enough that day by the bomb threat, and  may not have been in a tranquil enough mood to see a spindly white kid with a sadly Richard Spencer-esque haircut crouched in a tree.

The first tree that I examined was excellent for climbing in that it had sturdy, well spaced branches and  plenty of cover, but was on the lawn of Old Main, which would mean that I no doubt would have been spotted. Sadly, this marked the tree as off limits, as I was in no mood to alarm anyone and even less of a mood to explain myself. I took my business to the less crowded arboretum, which as the name implies is surrounded by nice trees.

I approached the arboretum with caution, as I knew that bike cops frequented the area, and  suspected that tree climbing was far too fun of an activity for them to allow. After scouting the place out, I picked a tall but flimsy pine tree that was on the northern end of the field that is adjacent to the maze. I sized up my task, and began my ascent.

^I found an artistic rendition of the arboretum cop online.

I was immediately bothered by the distribution of branches, as they were not only flimsy, but huge in number, poking the absolute crap out of my face. The flimsiness forced me to place my hands and feet on the branches as close to the trunk as possible while trying to evenly distribute my weight, all while noting that this was one of very few physical activities that had gotten more difficult for me as I grew up.

^ I took a stupid picture of my stupid face while climbing the stupid tree.

After I got as high as I reasoned possible (outside of a music festival), I stopped for a second and  took in where I was. I felt good. Sure, I was actually relatively uncomfortable, what with the rough bark scraping up against me and  the nasty amount of sap in my hair, but I felt in calm, and  in tune with nature. Something about climbing onto the back of a giant organism, viewing my world from a different perspective and  hearing the serene sounds of life gave me a level of peace and comfort that I too often forget is obtainable within my self. That moment reminded me of a story that my mother loves to tell, in which my young self, after a day of getting in trouble at school, asked her to drop me off in the forest, assuring her that the trees would take care of me. While I do not remember much from that time, and can only speculate what was going on in my head, I can say confidently that my young self said what he said with respect to a moment not unlike my Wednesday afternoon climb.

So

^ Some photos I took while up in the tree.