Shifting Sideways: Tree Watching

Shifting sideways is my own little experiment. They are all fairly short— and fairy odd. They capture my quirkiness completely. I hope you enjoy.

Because you’ll have one every Sunday!

Shifting Sideways: Creativity, Life and Love

Tree Watching

Most people have memories of laying on the grass, picking out shapes in clouds. It’s an activity that explores the boundaries of imagination and creativity. My son? He has never done this particular activity. Instead, he will have memories of picking shapes out of trees.

We drive a lot of country roads. A lot. The joke is that it takes 30 minutes to get almost anywhere, and 20 of those minutes are getting out of the country. California doesn’t have a whole lot of clouds right now, thanks to the draught. But trees? Trees we still have.

It started about four years ago. On Highway 88, between Eight Mile Road and Harney Lane, is a lovely tree that overhangs the pavement. Once I saw a dragon head in it, I could never unsee it. Quickly, it began providing entertainment on the drive home. The moment we drove near our new landmark, the Princeling would shout “Dragon!” He fought that dragon, conquered it, rode it across the mountains to visit Auntie in Reno. We drove through its fiery breath (“ewww… stinky!”), engaged it in battle all in an effort to stay out of it’s belly.

None of the other trees are quite as magical as that first one. However, it’s still exciting every time we add a new one to the mix. There’s a chicken on Austin Road, larger than life and ready to cross the road. On Harney Lane, there are two trees that look exactly like a cow, right in front of… a cow farm. On Jack Tone Road, a magical portal awaits us, ready to take us to another land. One filled with dragons, and knights, no doubt.

Cloud watching is dependent on the weather. Tree watching just requires a tree and a small shift sideways. No shapes in your trees? Find all the shades of brown, of green, how the light dapples through the leaves.

Your inner child will squeal in delight.

## End##

Copyright 2015 Wynelda Ann Deaver

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