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When I was a kid, the dream when climbing a tree was to get to the tip-top of the trunk. Much like while swinging and the desire is to get so much speed and power that you go in a full, centrifugal circle all the way around the bar, to balance atop the tree was not possible, but it was always the goal. The hope that somehow it would happen this time. This time. Somehow.

But, on every tree there was a point where I couldn't go any farther. Hands covered in sap and needle scratches on my arms I would stop on the last branch that could support me and for some time I would nestle there. Enjoying my place.

Eventually, I would reach out and grab hold of that final piece of the trunk and slowly rise to stand on the branch. Rising from the tree, I would look out upon the world. This is where I am.

I don't hope to stand atop the trunk any longer. I just hope the tree will be there in the morning.

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