My Haven Tree
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Posted:
Wed Jul 27, 2016 4:04 am
by Skye Selkie
*First piece
This was the first piece we wrote in class.
We got to go outside and choose a tree to write about.
We had to write a literal description of the tree and then write a figurative description of the tree as if it were a childhood memory or in a spooky forest.
---------------- Literal
The tree branches grow a small height, maybe half a metre, off the ground. The bark is rough and dark, cracked up the trunk. The smaller branches are a lighter colour than the rest of the tree. The leaves are a pale mint green.
----------------- Figurative
There is a tree in my mind that I remember. A meagre tree, but the branches grow wide, like a blanket offering shelter and warmth.
I see the bark, rugged and textured almost like how I would imagine dragon skin, or a dry, cracked riverbed. Teardrop leaves flutter in a breeze, casting their shadow across the grass. Look up and the sunlight dapples like stained glass, green and yellow. The branches are low and sturdy, spanning out like hands, inviting you to climb amongst the tangle.
As I climb in my mind, I feel the roughness of the tree, its weathered hide under my fingers. I hear the leaves quivering, like mice in a burrow, hiding from the hunter outside. I smell the petrichore that hovers in the air before a summer’s storm. I see the blues, the greens, the browns and the yellows, reminiscent to me of the Water Lily Pond.
I only have to climb a small height before it feels like the tree has engulfed me, a leafy, safe embrace.
This is where I would go to hide, to draw, to read, to think. But now, it is all in my memories, the only place my haven tree now lives.