Writer’s Block
Childhood dreams may fade, but they never die
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Brant is an amateur writer of predominantly poetry and occasionally short stories. He also dabbles in painting, mainly watercolour, but is currently attempting acrylic. Short nature hikes are his favourite way to relax and unwind and, as a result, some wildlife and landscape photography has made its way on to the walls of his home. Brant has been happily married to Tina, his high-school sweetheart, for 20 years and they are the proud parents of a teenage son, Aidan.
There once was a boy who found a magnificent tree that was standing alone in a field of wildflowers and green grasses. He circled its trunk with his hands, gently touching its weathered and aging bark. “I will climb you one day,” he announced to its branches. “If I could only grow a few extra inches!”
He returned to the tree nearly every day that summer. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, something that can only be experienced in one’s youth. Oh how his imagination took him on fantastic adventures of pirates and treasures, and of heroes and villains. There were secret missions around the world and rockets to Mars.
On the last day of summer, he played on well past dinner. From the edge of the field he could hear his dad calling. Dejectedly he sauntered back home with his hands in his pockets, glancing back at his unconquered mountain of branches.
As the seasons changed, so did the boy. Eventually, he became tall enough to scale the tree’s branches but instead would merely stare fondly at it in passing. He wanted to fit in and please his friends, and they were not interested in some old tree in an otherwise empty lot. Patiently the tree waited with its roots firmly planted deep in the field of his subconscious.
The tree stood alone once more as the hands of time moved forward. Then this boy became a man, leaving his childhood behind in search of success and to make his mark in the world. His boyhood adventures slowly drifted away down the river of memories in his mind.
Years went by and he found himself with a family of his own. There still remained a longing for his childhood home, though, and so began the first of many summer vacations with his parents in his boyhood home. They were more than happy to
hear the sounds of their grandson echoing o the walls, bringing back cherished memories.
His son slept in his old room and compared his height with markings on the wall. He played with his dad’s old toys and had adventures in the yard. The son was unknowingly chasing the shadows of his father’s past.
One day, his son ran in the house asking to play in a nearby field. “The one with the huge tree in the middle,” he announced, as he bounced up and down with excitement. His father smiled and said “I don’t see why not. You know, I remember playing there when I was your age.” O the boy ran as his father grinned and became lost in thought as memories began to rise to the surface like roots in search of water.
His son ran through the field towards the towering tree. Like father like son—his imagination whirled with images of dinosaurs and rocket ships and missions to the stars. Without a care he hopped and twirled and zipped around its trunk.
The light began to wane, marking the end of another day. His father walked to the edge of the field about to call him home but hesitated when he noticed his son jumping desperately trying to reach the lowest branches to no avail. As he watched, memories of his former self tugged at him like a child demanding his attention.
So instead he began to walk through the field, all the while holding out his arms allowing the wild grasses to tickle the palms of his hands. The closer he got to the tree the more he felt like the boy he left behind so many years ago.
“Looks like you could use a little help,” he said to his son, then proceeded to climb the tree that had patiently waited so long for his return. A child- like giggle escaped his mouth as he reached down, o ering his hand like an olive branch to his youth. His son smiled from ear to ear as he was lifted up to grab the nearest limb
As the sun set they sat beside each other within this seemingly wizened old tree, both knowing this was a special moment, a moment they would never forget.