Nervous Acorns Fall First

I inhaled through my nose. I kept the air inside of me for what seemed like years, but let it out as soon as I decided to open the gate and walk into my back yard. I don't know why I was so tense to enter my own backyard, but for some reason I couldn't shake the fear out of myself. Attempting to push the worries from my mind, I slid my shoes off and stepped into the cool grass. It tickled the soft bottoms of my feet. I continued further into the yard, and as I did, a strong gust of wind whipped the pink cardigan from my waist. I let it float in the wind for those moments. I didn't mind. It eventually settled in the far corner of my yard. I left it there and continued to walk gingerly through the grass. It was tall, about to my ankles. No one had bothered to mow it recently, but that was okay because I enjoyed the dew from the blades of grass brushing my ankles. I finally reached my destination. The old treehouse in the even older tree sat in the corner of my basic, suburban backyard. I grabbed the rope of the treehouse, but then stopped. This is why I was nervous. My parents had mentioned how they were considering taking down the tree, treehouse and all, If I didn't use it more. I had lived in this house all my life but never once touched the tree house. It was here when my parents moved here, and it still sits in the strong but tired branches of the tree. Because it has always been here, I can't think of my life without it, despite never going inside. But today was the day. Today I'm going up there.

I tense myself as I bring my bare foot up onto the rough rope. It hurt for the first moment, but I have a high tolerance for pain. I held the ladder tighter, this time with both hands, as I brought my other foot up. I whispered something about bravery to myself and stepped up. Hand, foot. Hand, foot. Over and over again, dragging myself and my nerves up higher and higher. Finally, the rope ended. I pulled myself onto the small deck that sat at the top of the rope and moved away from the ladder. The view wasn't anything special. All I could see were the neutral colors of the houses that filled the neighborhoods. I wondered to myself, why don't people paint their roofs fun colors? Why always grays and browns and tans? Never in my life had I seen a pink roof, and now I wanted to. Maybe I'll be the first person in the world to have a house with a pink roof. I smiled. Then I remembered where I was and why I was there. The treehouse. I turned out and peered through the window that faced the balcony. I slid my hand across the smooth windowsill and walked to the door. I crossed my fingers I wouldn't get any splinters in my feet, but even if I did I'll pull them out and continue on my way. I stepped inside and looked around. It wasn't much. Most likely more dust than wood at this point, but there were a few things that caught my eye.

First off, I saw a dusty little desk with a small, stump-like chair. I thought about how nice it would be to do my homework up here. Away from everyone, in my own little world. Second, there was a spiral staircase that went up to a loft. Maybe my friends and I could start a book club? This could be our clubhouse! I got excited at that thought. Finally, there was a small swing that hung from the underside of the loft. I slid my backpack off my shoulders (as I had just come from school) and dropped it by the door. A cloud of dust flew up into my face and I sneezed a few times. I'd need to clean this place up, but not right now. A little dust never hurt anyone. I began to look around. My mind was now whirling with ideas instead of worries; I found it silly that I was worried at all. I walked over to the desk and sat down. The surface was smooth and insanely practical. I'd much rather write up here than at my kitchen table, my brothers running around me and my parents shouting from the kitchen. Right, My brothers. I thought. This treehouse is mine now. Maybe i'll add a key to the door, or have a password or something. Maybe I can hire a bouncer? I giggled and it echoed throughout the empty treehouse. I moved on from the desk and went over to the swing. I looked up at where it was attached. It looked fairly strong, and again, if I got hurt, so be it, so I sat down. I swung a little bit as I sat down, but I pushed off of the floor and began to gain momentum. I had an idea; a bean bag that sat on the floor at a healthy distance from the swing. I could leap from the swing onto the bean bag. It was an idea I was pleased with. My first task after this tour would be to make an ideas list. I slowed the swing down, being careful not to scrape up my feet, and walked over to the staircase. I set my first foot onto the first step and put some weight on it. A squeak alarmed me, but I quickly ignored it and took a few more steps. At this point in time, I had no doubts about this treehouse. It was sturdy and promising. I looped around and around and stepped onto the loft. I liked what I found. A pile of old books sat in the corner. Why they were here and who left them were not answered, but I rushed over to them and started flipping through them. They all happened to be books I had never heard of, but I was still intrigued. I had seen everything there was to see in my new best friend, the old, forgotten treehouse. I decided the first thing to do was take some money out of my savings and put it towards the treehouse, as it needed some TLC. But after some cleaning up and decorating, this place will be really nice. I turned towards the door and saw my dad glancing around the yard. I ran out the door and called out, "Up here, Dad!" From the balcony. He must have been surprised I made it up the rope without falling, because once he saw me up on the balcony with a large smile, he gasped. After his moment of shock, he just smiled and waved, going back inside once he knew where I was.

After that introduction with the treehouse, my mind never left it. During tests, at lunch, even on Sundays when my friends were all in town getting milkshakes and playing marbles at the park. I spent every afternoon in that treehouse. All summer was spent basking in its hospitality, reading books and doing puzzles and calling friends.

The treehouse was an example of good things that come from risks. It may have looked frail and weak, but it supported me and helped me thrive. I was its little acorn, and it was my sun, my water, and my soil.