When I was eleven, I lived in a large neighborhood in a suburb of a large city. As you might imagine, there weren’t many trees to be found in the city proper, but in the suburb of Woodbridge much care was taken to preserve a lot of the grass and trees. In my neighborhood, there was a playground four or five blocks from my house, and behind the playground was an expanse of trees that looked endless to my young eyes. When my friends came over, we would often ride bikes up to the playground with my younger sister Kim and play there for a few hours, amusing ourselves with imagination games and spinning each other around on the tire swing.
One day, someone suggested that we go into the trees and explore. That day, it was just me, Kim, and my best friend Molly. So, we left our bikes on the playground and climbed the short hill to reach the treeline and venture into the woods. As soon as we made it through the initial bunch of trees, we found ourselves on a wide, grassy walkway with trees on either side of us. The first thing I thought was that the picture in front of me looked like it could have been an illustration for Mirkwood, the way the trees were bending toward each other and filtering the light so it was a sort of golden green.
“It looks like something from The Lord Of The Rings,” I said, my voice hushed with quiet awe at the beauty.
“It does,” Molly replied, her eyes also on the trees and dappled light cast by the afternoon sun.
“Let’s see what’s down the hill!” Kim said, starting to walk forward, toward the gently sloping hill that the path was leading us toward.
We laughed and ran forward eagerly to see what was ahead of us, and my eyes noted some brightly colored pieces of plastic stuck to wires on either side of us.
“What are these?” I asked, pointing them out to Molly and Kim. They looked a little like flags, and I thought they looked familiar, though I couldn’t place the memory.
“Those are markers, for the boundaries of people’s property when they don’t have fences,” Molly said, looking left and right to see them as well. “We must be walking between two people’s property.”
“So we’re not trespassing,” I said in relief. I didn’t like to break the rules.
“We’re not going to hurt anything even if we were,” Molly said with a shrug, then we both looked up as Kim shouted.
“Here’s a creek!” she cried, jumping over the creek that was at the bottom of the path’s slope.
“Awesome!” Molly and I shouted, running toward it and jumping over too.
“I wonder where it goes,” Molly said, watching the water’s flow. “Let’s follow it.”
“I dunno,” I said nervously, seeing that it headed toward some flags that indicated someone else’s property.
Molly read my mind and rolled her eyes.
“The land in that direction probably belongs to the neighborhood -- like the playground,” she said, pointing in the direction of the water’s flow. “It’s flowing toward the neighborhood.”
“I dunno,” I repeated.
“Come on, Jessica,” Kim said.
I finally relented, and I soon forgot my anxiety. We followed the creek as it looped and climbed the hilly ground, spending the entire afternoon admiring the serene and unfamiliar beauty of the woods. I was never concerned about getting lost -- somehow I knew we were never too far from houses or the playground -- so I just relaxed and enjoyed myself. We built mini-dams that were soon washed away. We had leaf races and shouted when our “boats” sunk after going over waterfalls. We leapt from shore to shore, following the least muddy path. Soon, the creek began to get wider and wider, then it split and flowed on either side of a small island before coming back together again and disappearing into a pipe that went underground.
“I want to explore the island!” Molly said.
“I don’t know if we can jump it,” I said, biting my lip and looking at the creek. It was pretty wide now.
“We’re on higher ground here,” Molly pointed out. “We can just jump over and onto the island.”
“What about getting back?” I asked.
“Stop being such a worrywart,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. “We can jump across to the other side, see?”
I was still not convinced.
“What if we land in the creek? I don’t want to go home with wet shoes. Mom’ll be mad.”
Just then, Kim tried to jump over from a lower vantage point. She cleared the creek, but just barely, getting her shoes muddy.
“I’m okay!” she shouted, smiling, then ran to find a stick to scrape the mud off with.
“I promise we can make it,” Molly said, looking at me seriously. Although she still looked a little exasperated with me, I could tell that she was being serious.
“You promise?”
“Yeah. I’ll go first, and prove it to you.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding.
She took a running start, then propelled herself from the shore, stretching her legs as far as they could reach. She was only in the air for a second before she landed on the island, several feet from the edge.
“See?” she said, waving and smiling. “Plenty of room. Come on!”
I took a deep breath, still worried that I would land in the creek. But then I breathed out and trusted that Molly wouldn’t let me do something that would get me in any serious trouble. I took a running start too and jumped as hard as I could. It felt like I was in the air for a lot longer than Molly was, but I also landed safely on the island, even further inland than Molly.
My heart, which had been in my throat, went back to its rightful place again, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. A smile spring to my face, half of pride and half of relief.
“I told you,” Molly said, helping me to my feet.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling far more thankful than was probably necessary for the situation.
It was a big deal to me; I don’t really remember why. I’m not sure I ever knew why, really. But that moment, holding Molly's hand as she told me we could make it, and flying through the air, and the swelling thrill in my chest after making it -- that moment stuck with me all these years.
One day, someone suggested that we go into the trees and explore. That day, it was just me, Kim, and my best friend Molly. So, we left our bikes on the playground and climbed the short hill to reach the treeline and venture into the woods. As soon as we made it through the initial bunch of trees, we found ourselves on a wide, grassy walkway with trees on either side of us. The first thing I thought was that the picture in front of me looked like it could have been an illustration for Mirkwood, the way the trees were bending toward each other and filtering the light so it was a sort of golden green.
“It looks like something from The Lord Of The Rings,” I said, my voice hushed with quiet awe at the beauty.
“It does,” Molly replied, her eyes also on the trees and dappled light cast by the afternoon sun.
“Let’s see what’s down the hill!” Kim said, starting to walk forward, toward the gently sloping hill that the path was leading us toward.
We laughed and ran forward eagerly to see what was ahead of us, and my eyes noted some brightly colored pieces of plastic stuck to wires on either side of us.
“What are these?” I asked, pointing them out to Molly and Kim. They looked a little like flags, and I thought they looked familiar, though I couldn’t place the memory.
“Those are markers, for the boundaries of people’s property when they don’t have fences,” Molly said, looking left and right to see them as well. “We must be walking between two people’s property.”
“So we’re not trespassing,” I said in relief. I didn’t like to break the rules.
“We’re not going to hurt anything even if we were,” Molly said with a shrug, then we both looked up as Kim shouted.
“Here’s a creek!” she cried, jumping over the creek that was at the bottom of the path’s slope.
“Awesome!” Molly and I shouted, running toward it and jumping over too.
“I wonder where it goes,” Molly said, watching the water’s flow. “Let’s follow it.”
“I dunno,” I said nervously, seeing that it headed toward some flags that indicated someone else’s property.
Molly read my mind and rolled her eyes.
“The land in that direction probably belongs to the neighborhood -- like the playground,” she said, pointing in the direction of the water’s flow. “It’s flowing toward the neighborhood.”
“I dunno,” I repeated.
“Come on, Jessica,” Kim said.
I finally relented, and I soon forgot my anxiety. We followed the creek as it looped and climbed the hilly ground, spending the entire afternoon admiring the serene and unfamiliar beauty of the woods. I was never concerned about getting lost -- somehow I knew we were never too far from houses or the playground -- so I just relaxed and enjoyed myself. We built mini-dams that were soon washed away. We had leaf races and shouted when our “boats” sunk after going over waterfalls. We leapt from shore to shore, following the least muddy path. Soon, the creek began to get wider and wider, then it split and flowed on either side of a small island before coming back together again and disappearing into a pipe that went underground.
“I want to explore the island!” Molly said.
“I don’t know if we can jump it,” I said, biting my lip and looking at the creek. It was pretty wide now.
“We’re on higher ground here,” Molly pointed out. “We can just jump over and onto the island.”
“What about getting back?” I asked.
“Stop being such a worrywart,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. “We can jump across to the other side, see?”
I was still not convinced.
“What if we land in the creek? I don’t want to go home with wet shoes. Mom’ll be mad.”
Just then, Kim tried to jump over from a lower vantage point. She cleared the creek, but just barely, getting her shoes muddy.
“I’m okay!” she shouted, smiling, then ran to find a stick to scrape the mud off with.
“I promise we can make it,” Molly said, looking at me seriously. Although she still looked a little exasperated with me, I could tell that she was being serious.
“You promise?”
“Yeah. I’ll go first, and prove it to you.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding.
She took a running start, then propelled herself from the shore, stretching her legs as far as they could reach. She was only in the air for a second before she landed on the island, several feet from the edge.
“See?” she said, waving and smiling. “Plenty of room. Come on!”
I took a deep breath, still worried that I would land in the creek. But then I breathed out and trusted that Molly wouldn’t let me do something that would get me in any serious trouble. I took a running start too and jumped as hard as I could. It felt like I was in the air for a lot longer than Molly was, but I also landed safely on the island, even further inland than Molly.
My heart, which had been in my throat, went back to its rightful place again, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. A smile spring to my face, half of pride and half of relief.
“I told you,” Molly said, helping me to my feet.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling far more thankful than was probably necessary for the situation.
It was a big deal to me; I don’t really remember why. I’m not sure I ever knew why, really. But that moment, holding Molly's hand as she told me we could make it, and flying through the air, and the swelling thrill in my chest after making it -- that moment stuck with me all these years.
--
Inspiration: A childhood memory
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