Tree

As most of you know, I spent every lunch period during my freshman and sophomore years in a tree by the south doors of Uni. As far as I could tell, people thought it was cool and creative of me to sit there. (If people actually thought I was just an idiot, those people can stuff a large stick infested with ants and termites up their snoots and wait uncomfortably for their eyeballs to be eaten through from the inside.) Here are some of the reasons I began eating in a tree and why it took me so long to leave.

At the end of subbie year, a time none of us like to think about, I was beginning to notice that the people who I thought were my close friends weren't that close after all. Since I had been eating lunch with them, and a clear disconnect was forming between myself and them, it didn't take me long at the beginning of freshman year to abandon their crummy lunch group (who needs them?) and seek out a new spot to eat in. At first, I thought I could eat with some other group of people, but I realized that was a dumb idea once I remembered that we were one of the most cliquey, disconnected classes in Uni. I decided to eat wherever I pleased rather than with whomever I pleased.

This train of thought led me outside, because the outdoors has fresh air, colourful scenery, and fewer people to reject me. Out of convenience, I had exited out the south doors, with the intent to wander around the corner to the (sort of) green space between Uni and Uni Gym. However, the moment I rounded the corner, I saw oodles of upperclassmen who I thought would have been more than happy to bury me under the rocks of the picnic area, stomp all over the ground above me, and place one of the wooden tables (remember them?) on top of me as a place marker and scratch "rip" into it. I didn't think the air under those rocks would be too fresh, so I turned around. As I nearly hit my head on that now-famous tree limb, it (nearly) hit me: I would eat in the tree.

The branch was nearly level and surprisingly comfy. There was another branch just within reach that I could use as a table. The air was delightful. It was the perfect spot.

Soon people started to walk by. Even though it was still early in the year, a surprising number of them, with their zombified faces staring straight ahead, didn't even notice that I was there. I chuckled. Those that did notice gave me more civility and open kindness than I had had at lunch for quite a while. It was refreshing, and they gave me a satisfied smile that lasted the whole period.

While there were no people beneath me, my time was my own. I could think aloud freely. I was not constrained by the presence of judging humans. All I had to do was enjoy my surroundings and my food. It reminded me of British gardening shows, where everything was "pleasant". The only thing that could have made it better was flowers. Those came in the spring.

Between summer and spring, of course, was winter. It was cold, and my hands got numb, but I didn't care. Fewer people passed me on the sidewalk, and I had even more freedom to think aloud than before. When it snowed, there was glistening beauty covering a bleak backdrop everywhere. Flowers were unnecessary. How could I leave such a paradise?


(How? The lounge, that's how.)