Trees

I sometimes get an impulse to jump and see if I can reach a branch high up on a tree. I start lower down, then set myself a goal I could never achieve, then turn back to a lower branch. Yesterday, on a walk, I saw a branch I wanted to touch and jumped as high as I could to reach the leaves. The purpose? To fulfill the sense of excitement I had at the prospect of touching the leaves. I touched it, then failed to reach the next one. There is something joyful about trying to touch branches, paricularly when one's ability to estimate height is poor: you never know what is just high enough up that you cannot touch. At least, until you try!

Later on that walk -- a walk that may not have happened had the rain become a bit more intense -- I walked into a vintage car and motorbike showcase. A surprise indeed. I reflected this is the second time this has happened. Last time, I was in Leeds and, en route to a coffee shop, I stumbled upon the Distinguished Gentleman's bikers event. I love random things like this that happen: the moment when you encounter something exciting, serendipitously.

This morning, on a walk, I was in the opposite situation. The branches and leaves on a particular tree were so low that I had to duck my head. I weaved through the leaves with delicate swerves, careful to avoid touching the leaves with my head. Touching leaves with my hand? Sure! My head? I do not feel as comfortable with that prospect. I am unsure of the reason. It is one of those things I learned to do, and I get excited about dodging the leaves. It is a mini-game.