realization that Bryce and I were alone。
Alone!
My heart was positively racing as I held the kite out to him。 But before he could take it;
Champ nudged me from behind and I could feel his cold;
wet nose against my skin。
Against my skin?!
I grabbed my jeans in back; and thats when I realized the seat of my pants was ripped wide
open。
Bryce laughed a little nervous laugh; so I could tell he knew; and for once mine were the
cheeks that were beet red。 He took his kite and ran off;
leaving me to inspect the damage。
I did eventually get over the embarrassment of my jeans; but I never got over the view。 I kept
thinking of what it felt like to be up so high in that tree。
I wanted to see it; to feel it; again。 And again。
……… Page 18………
It wasnt long before I wasnt afraid of being up so high and found the spot that became my
spot。 I could sit there for hours; just looking out at the
world。 Sunsets were amazing。 Some days theyd be purple and pink; some days theyd be a
blazing orange; setting fire to clouds across the
horizon。
It was on a day like that when my fathers notion of the whole being greater than the sum of
its parts moved from my head to my heart。 The view
from my sycamore was more than rooftops and clouds and wind and colors bined。
It was magic。
And I started marveling at how I was feeling both humble and majestic。 How was that
possible? How could I be so full of peace and full of
wonder? How could this simple tree make me feel so plex? So alive。
I went up the tree every chance I got。 And in junior high that became almost every day
because the bus to our school picks up on Collier Street;
right in front of the sycamore tree。
At first I just wanted to see how high I could get before the bus pulled up; but before long I
was leaving the house early so I could get clear up to
my spot to see the sun rise; or the birds flutter about; or just the other kids converge on the
curb。
I tried to convince the kids at the bus stop to climb up with me; even a little ways; but all of