I WANT TO SEE WHAT THE TREES SEE EVERY DAY

Yesterday Janice climbed the tree looking funny and jumbled with a hat made of branches. She said the clouds made her hair grow longer. She said the world spins faster when you’re scared but she wasn’t scared this time because she saw you. I wanted to climb the tree but my limbs are still awkwardly short for a boy my age. We had a rope nearby but I don’t know any knots. I wanted to see you. Janice said she’d boost me up but I don’t trust the palms of her hands like I do her voice. We talked it over and hatched a plan and it hatched real good. Janice went up again with a camera to take a picture. She almost dropped it but her countless hats caught it with their countless brims. When she got back to the ground I snatched the camera and looked. The photo she took was a blurry haze of crashing waves and sand soaked clean of any colour. Yes, it was unmistakeably you.