Read introduction

I fell out of a tree when i was 3. apparently.
and i found video footage of it,
but this is how it looks like from my perspective.

3 Birdies

600125_10151092095016133_1221264550_nby Ronatani25 Aug 2013

You know what I’ve always wondered.
Who came up with the idea of tree’s
God obviously
But still
Say it over again.
It’s funny.

This large rather oddly shaped thing
Sticking out of the ground
It’s brown
With little green highlights that change colour when
The silly weather gets moody.
These things that are the play dreams of children
And the life support of the rest of the world.
And I have one In my back yard
An apple friend
Who haunted my room
as a ripped shadow on the wall
threatening to wrap its branches round my arm
and drag me outside

3 year old me used to pick up his apples
that fell on the ground the oh so lovely ground,
and throw them into a garden somewhere east
so no more evil apple trees would haunt me.

I’ve met some more trees since then!
Coconut friends
Banana friends
Peach friends
And apricot friends
They all scare the shit out of me
God knows what would happen if I ever went to that place in California
Where trees touch the sky
I’d probably get to the top
Take in a breath and scream
This is why I don’t climb trees.
Cause I fell of one and broke my arm when I was 3

Yep just 3

My uncle carried me onto the branch and told me to go have fun.

And my world was green
And spiky
And cold
And had bugs climbing on me
And A chestnut fluffy squirrel
decided that my face was its new nemesis

It flew
I fell

Down to the ground
Poor 3 year old me
Practically hitting terminal velocity
For all the sense I could make at the time.

And as I fell back to the safe lovely oh so lovely constant ground
I saw them.
3 little birdies
Cooped up in their nest at the top of the tree
Comfy away like little innocent me in my blanky.

With the defiant grunt that only a 3 year old can make
I got back up
Rubbed my dungarees
Wiped my eyes from silly girl tears
And started to climb.

One hatch to the other
One branch became another
One swing to swing
One revengeful grab of apples to fling for later
Higher and higher
The birds were brighter
The trunk thinner
Me mightier
And on the last great push
I cleared the labyrinth tree
And arrived at the birds nest.

There I sat
On the top of my mountainous ride
And I was greeted
By a blueorangemagentapinkredish sunset
High Clouds like white paint thrown across the sky
A Picasso in my eye.

I admit I had come here with a goal
to take that nest as my crown.
But 3 year old me just sat
And sat
And sat till the night sky
Washed over the magical colours that are still imprinted in my mind.
I didn’t want it to leave.
That beautiful morphing creature alive in the sky
Like a match dancing to the beat of its own destruction.
I threw my own personal tantrum
And got into an alarmingly distressed state.
But the birdies were quite calm
And just looked at me.
And we shared a thought.
So I climbed down the face
Of an adversary I see every day.

But that promise I made
between those birdies and me
Means I no longer have to throw the apples away.