The warm whispers of home call to me from far across the ocean. But I know I am here for a reason. I climbed a tree, swaying in the wind. This is my tree, imperfect and like no one else's. It feels so unstable at times, it's foggy, and I cannot see out far in front of my own nose...but man, when that fog clears, I know I will be able to see for miles and miles. I have changed branches a few times, higher, lower, crawling further in and away. I may not be able to see it all at once, but the clarity that it will bring will be well worth my while. For now, I cling snugly and securely to this trunk. Branches and twigs break off from time to time, but they never hinder my effort or existence.
What a risk to take, climbing a tree in the wind, storm, and weather. I will probably fall down and there is the risk that it may collapse completely, snapping in two. Even harder to imagine is if I had I never embarked, I would never have been able to know the height of the tree, see the green of the leaves, or the feel breath of the wind.
