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Hello Sunday Polaroid of Tree Climbing in West End

I must be beautiful up here. I have scourged my way through a day, so abominable, leaving me breathless, to get here. I have hoisted my skirt in the most provincial manner, raised one leg like an errant dog on the footpath and heaved – yes, audibly – my belly and thighs – now scraped and stinging – to get here. But still, I must be beautiful. I brace myself against the trunk, so thick I need not worry about my balance. Up here I am a nymph. I lift my eyes to the sky – the patches that shimmer through the leaves, some so lit with sun they are glowing, almost translucent. Afternoon light, rich and mellow, melts into my skin. I am butterscotch sap. I trace the bark as I move my arms up and down as if with wings, not looking with my eyes but searching what is both earthly and divine. I feel as solid as a tree, this tree, and I could press my back just a little harder and if you came looking for me I would be obscured entirely, camouflaged. I would be foliage and roots, dirt under my nails. I do not know how to get down, but I suspect now it is too late anyway. If I jump, the ground will erupt. I will have to stay here, where I am beautiful, forever.

Find out more about this Hello Sunday delight.

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