Tree Climber

He sat and looked.

he drank it in.

watched it shimmer.

It's gold and sparkling, brown and green.

standing very tall and impressive, a show off really, but subtly.

limbs falling and scattering, twisting, reaching and swaying.

tumbling across the sky.

up and down. accross and through itself.

pushing away from him.

toward him as well, which is odd.

He was cross-legged. sat amongst the grass.

a hand gently picking at

the dandelions and sticks and dirt.

(twirling them amogst his fingers and

stopping every so often to tear them in two or three or four).

a glance toward it's trunk.

it's so thick!

it's so rough!

it's so...

eyes wondering across it and up it and then down it again.

concerning and discerning and calculating and diliberating.

He patted the grass goodbye.

And replaced the torn dandelion heads next to their old bodies.

His eyes focused.

Where to start?

A foot, a hand, a finger, and knee.

Slowly and carefully he began to climb.

I'm so high!

I'm so far!

He stopped. And looked.

Everything has changed, everything is different.

What if i fall? What if i break my leg? Or Back? Or face?

Nerves. And fear. Sudden terror and a hint of a question of

what exactly he was thinking of before he started this awful business.

oh my! oh my! oh no! oh my!

Legs quivering. And arms. And head.

(He was a foot from the ground at this point).

A second. A moment.

The wind touched his face.

feathered his lips and smoothed his cheeks.

Virtigo over, he carried on climbing.

Persepective altering.

Brain focused.

Arms and Legs moving on, up and along and sometimes.

A bit down again which was quite annoying.

The trunk gave way to branches.

Clutching and hugging, he side stepped across.

He saw his destination.

It was perfect.

Perfect for sitting (just don't look down quite yet).

Closer and closer, a leg trembled. An arm twitched.

Fingers clasping, then sliding.

Stop.

He sat down again.

But this time it wasn't with the dandelions.

He looked through the branches and the leaves.

His fingers clasped the trunk (just checking it was still there).

The sun warmed his forehead.

His nose, his neck, and a bit of his left shoulder.

The leaves cast patterns and shapes all over the rest of him.

They looked a bit like hands, which is nice.

And then the wind washed his face.

Cooled his body and his mind.

His heart raced when he took it all in.

Everything. All of it.

It really is all much more different, he thought.

When your'e sat up in a tree.

Michelle had a Birthday

I met you when i was understanding.

You met me when you were understanding.

We met eachother, and that was it.

To the friend in my life that can make me laugh without doing anything at all.

Who is many things and words and colours and songs and voices.

Who i love beyond and forever.

Mole

Birthday's are really in this year.

Happy Birthday Kate.

Thirty years of being lovely on this world.
Twenty Three years of being a big sister to me.
Four years of being "Naughty Auntie Katie".
Many more years to come of being a MB.

Map

My sense of direction is terrible.

And so I would forever be getting lost.

One day, when I was little, my oldest sister sat me down and told me-

"Jimmy, love, why don’t you draw maps of the places you are going to go?
Then you wouldn’t get lost all the time!"

Well.

I was stunned. What a simple and fantastic way to prevent being a lost boy!

So whenever I would venture out to somewhere new.

A place unknown.

To have my adventures….

(Like to the shops or "the garages"-where-the-cool-kids-were)

…I would draw a little map, with a little me
and a little route of how to get to where I wanted to go.

I’d clutch this colourful and highly detailed drawing
(I’d have ALL the bins and even get our cat Smudge on there too)
so tight within my fingers that my pokey knuckles would turn so white.

This map wasn’t a map. It was my talisman. My saviour. My truth.

It’d calm me down, like a warm and complete and sudden hug
from one of my big sisters or brother.

I don’t need to draw little maps as much anymore.

But I’ve always kept the ones I made.

A nice box of safe keepers. A box of hugs.

Something to calm me down.

So just in case, when I’m on an adventure,

I won’t get lost on the way.

Tree

Another birthday in my rediculously massive family. So another brilliant excuse to MAKE me finish something, and here it is.

Happy.
Birthday.
Han.

Fox and Charlie

Fox was a fox.

A fox with a lovely long tail with lots of reds and yellows and blacks and browns weaving in and out of each other. It generally whipped from side to side at many different speeds, mostly depending on his mood.

A fox with a bushy cheeky face, where his big blue eyes would shimmer green when the light was just perfectly right.

A fox whose most favourite word he could ever even think of (even before the words sleep and eat) was the word fun. Specifically, to have fun. Lots of it.

Fox lived within the bushes and the trees, in the little Green that was just opposite number 67, and all the other odd numbered houses up until number 89.
He loved to explore and discover all the beautiful things that surrounded him.

He would scuttle behind the bins.
He would slip through breaks in fences.
He would dive amongst the flowers.
He would dance all over the benches.
And, sometimes, he would have a journey through the gardens.

On a Sunday, a bright and sunny and lazy Sunday to be exact, fox was having a wander about and came across a gap in a fence. Peeking through the mouldy old fence, Fox spotted what looked like a very interesting garden indeed.

This garden had a girl in it, a girl with lots of curly blond hair and a big loud laugh that bounced around her. She was singing made up words to a made up song all to herself, while playing with some dinosaurs.
Fox had always wanted a human friend, and if he were to have one he would be definite, he thought right then, that this girl should be just that. Someone with that much hair, with that loud of a laugh, who played with dinosaurs and sang strange songs would just have to be that. A friend.

Swishing his tail and flicking his ears, Fox built up the courage to potter over to the girl.

“Allo” said fox to the girl. “My name’s Fox, what’s yours then?”

The girl stopped singing and laughing and simply said straight back “Charlie”.

Fox stared at the dinosaurs. All the fun possibilities that they had swam across his eyes, and Charlie saw their playful reflections.

Charlie thought about Fox for a moment, and then added “What you been up to? Do you like dinosaurs?”

“Well”, Fox confessed, “I one hundred percent adore dinosaurs, they are great fun!”

“Do you want to play dinosaurs with me then?” asked Charlie.

With so much excitement running about Fox’s head all he could scream in reply was “Oh! Yes please!”

Fox and Charlie played many dinosaurs games.

Lets play scared dinosaurs!
Now lets do hungry dinosaurs!
No happy dinosaurs!
Singing dinosaurs!
Uh Oh, Silly dinosaurs!

As the time went on in a dinosaur blur, the pair barely noticed the sky had changed so much. So full of happiness and joy, of laughter and delight, they hugged each other. And in that moment, arm in paw, the pair had the same exact thought.

Oh! It’s so much fun playing with dinosaurs!
Oh! It’s so much fun playing with a brand new and lovely friend!

The sun began to settle down into it’s bed, blues and greens blending into oranges and yellows, and all the mums and dads around the estate were beginning to whoop and shout for their kids to come inside for tea. As did, at that exact and very moment, Charlie’s mum.

“Oh no! Oh Fox, I have to go home now! Sorry!”

Handing Charlie back her dinosaur, Fox looked down at the grass. Then he looked to the side where the broken fence was. Then he looked up at the warm cloudy sky. Fox was so nervous before he uttered his next few words that he thought it best to look all around Charlie and not directly into her face.

“Never mind, never mind darlin’ Charlie, but…could we maybe play again tomorrah?”

Charlie gave him a look. A look half way between confusion and wonder, with a touch of delight sparkling in her lovely bright eyes.

“OH COURSE FOX! You’re my friend forever now! Bye then fox!” she screeched.

After one last quick and clumsy cuddle goodbye, Fox left Charlie and scampered off home to his bushes and trees and dirt and leaves. Although he was so tired after a long day of dinosaur fun, he ambled back to the Green positively leaping with joy.
Sounds of laughter and made up songs tickled his ears.
Visions of dinosaurs and blond hair danced passed his eyes.
How exciting it is, how fun and wonderful and lovely and beautiful it is, to find such a friend!

And with that last little thought, fox snuggled up inside his bark and twigs and dirt and, with a satisfied little smile spread wide across his snout, he fell fast asleep.