Skeleton yard

I hop scotched the ruins, like a game of chutes and ladders, yet rungs were limbs and chutes were muddy descents into vast tangled spaces. The trees laid mangled like intricate cobwebs, atleast an acre, pulled from their heights, now knocked and hauled and laid to a merciless rest. The landscape was an ugly skeleton yard, corpses splayed, unearthed. Root systems with eagles’ wingspans boasted of seasons past, gasping in the chill Alaskan air.

My sister Aryn said the site made her want to cry, she was angry at Daddy. I thought her expression was melodramatic, eyeing the wreckage like a downed ship with mysterious hidden value, I planned to explore when no one was watching. My first order of business was to walk the length of the trunk city, I made my way equipped with little-choosing bare feet for better stability. I jungle gymed my way on top of a root base, grasping past dirt clods to stable holds, smooth yet knotted like drift wood. Adrenaline ticking, I took in the view, expecting a great find. Gargantuan noble trees lay like tooth picks, fallen and holding on to one another. The sun was high in the sky, yet the scene was glazed with fog, grey and lonely, like an inaudible sob. I walked as if on a balance beam, toes clinging, arms outstretched-focused on my original mission despite my growing discomfort. Before I knew it, distance had grown between me and the house, which appeared as a rooftop on the horizon. With each step the novelty of the situation wore thin, I began to consider the trees, their structure, years of endurance, and whimsical quality. I reminisced about days spent exploring, the days I giggled and sang or escaped to cry, in the refugee of the woods. Bright and inviting in the sunlight, spooky and hollow at sundown, I remembered our first meeting and how I was scared to enter in at first. My chosen destination became an argrious task as I pulled and twisted around newly entwined limbs. My body was only a bit tired, but mostly it was my heart. My eyes had become opened to the quiet weeping, a deep sadness that hungg heavy in the air and around my heart. I turned back before I got to where I had intended to go. I felt no purpose in a few last steps. Yearning for the safe warmth of home, my gait became a near run- bounding over obstacles once carefully traversed. The wreckage seemed to spread farther and farther with every step.

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