My Escape

    The hammock is an enticing cocoon calling its fatigued prey to escape reality, if only briefly. A welcome rendezvous, a trysting place out among the elements. The gentle sway and lure of escape calls one to come and lay down. Stretched out between two tall pecan trees, the old weathered bed of rope entices all to come. Whether in the rigid air of the winter or the laziness of the summer heat, a well placed hammock provides a valuable retreat. A hammock is a welcome companion in every season as an escape from the man-made world of business, into the God created world of nature.
    In the barren cold air of winter, the draw of the well worn rope is waiting and inviting. As one sits and reclines securely back in the hammocks cocoon like personality, they are removed from reality. No one dares to brave the rigid air except she who has been seduced by the lure of the hammock. Looking up through the barren tree limbs one escapes the business of entertaining and hosting family for the holidays. Wrapped deep within ones thick coat and the bonds of the cold ropes   one curls up in the web ropes where noise is almost non-existent. There is the occasional sound of vehicles maneuvering the ice or a dog complaining about living outside and the mind is no different. The soul is quiet and at peace as one meditates on last year’s memories and the need for the body to simply be still.
        The grayish tinted sky threatens of snow that never quite makes its destination on earth slows the mind. There are no animals to watch, no clouds to view,  only  a calm that  seems to curl around all that brave the outdoors. If one listens closely they can hear the trees growing anticipation of leaves and houses that small animals will build in its branches. Like the tree, one ponders upcoming holidays, parties, and family that will visit;  some welcome and some tolerated. This winter is a time of solitude and restoring. It is a time to pray and meditate without wandering to far in ones imagination. All too soon it is Thanksgiving, then Christmas and suddenly Spring bursts into view as if out of nowhere.
    As Spring arrives, the hammock opens to newness and life. The awakening of nature seems to also stimulate the soul and mind to dream. The hammock, that once surrounding one as a cocoon, now begins to open and push its captive to take flight. One can begin to feel the strong ropes instead of a coat as the once rigid air bends to the warmth of spring. Looking up, one can see the leaves exploding out of branches to provide a canopy above the solace and a shade to the soon hatching fowl. It is not hard to be inspired to love, to dream as nature comes to life among the weaved limbs of the pecan tree. Animals building nests, some in familiar spots while others are left to choose new plots after losing last years home.
    The season of inspiration and love is what some call spring, and the hammock moves with the suggestion. Laying among the old ropes watching wee baby squirrels emerge from their winter sleep, opens ones mind to look at their own growth over the winter. Limbs that were once barren are now alive with life, along with the world that comes to life in the welcome warmth of Spring. Laying within the meadow of the ropes, vacation plans begin to sprout from the heart and mind interweaving with each other and ones desire to get away to the places imagined in winter. For now the hammock provides the escape from the pressure and expectations of daily living. Watching small birds pushed from their safe nest to take flight for the first time encourages one to dream bigger, to plan bigger, and possibly expect bigger from within themselves.
    As the vacations end and shorts have replaced light jackets, summer reveals emptied nests and brilliantly painted blue skies. Now educated by the sun itself of the heat it possesses one lays on the rough, dry ropes that become a fantastic flying net, transporting them into their own imagination. Squirrels throwing themselves from limb to limb seem to float through the air with ones own daydreams. The clouds present themselves as movies– a castle, a lion, and now an iced lemonade drink as the tongue remembers it can spare itself from the heat.
    The pressing Arkansas heat holds one as a willing prisoner to escape into each thier own world, and if not careful a nap educed by the movement of the breeze as it stirs the heated air. The night air still warmed from the noon day sun, welcomes the retreat seeking individual. The  tree a silent  hiding place for small animals from owls, is a backdrop for the nightlife. The smell of bug spray fills ones nostrils as their ear listens to an annoyed insect trying to land and eat. Soon the leaves will be colored and nuts harvested for pies and brittle.
    Now a warming blanket around its captive, the ropes of the hammock become a platform for viewing natures transformation. Reminded of the years changes and personal growth one reflects as they watch the leaves change into gold and yellow. Too many shades to name and too many leaves to count are being pushed off and rejected by the tree in preparation of the extra weight of winter’s snow. The leaves fall to the ground forming a beautiful colored blanket on the earth reminding one that life is but a vapor gone quickly and to be used wisely.
    The warm air has submitted to the cooler brisk air of fall. The crisp fall air sets the mind into anticipation  and planning once again. While thoughts of relief from the blistering heat engulf ones thoughts, the daydreams of the warmth of summer is hidden away. The view of the big, busy city within the trees has halted to a backwoods, one gas station town crawl as birds leave for the warmth of the south air. The only action is the hurried squirrels packing nuts for the winter, faster than the humans hands can retrieve them for pies. One begins to pack plans for the holidays like the squirrels packing the nuts. Ones imagination begins to slow and dreams start to hibernate into a quiet calm until next spring awakens them once more.
    Yet still the embrace of the cold ropes is a welcome and calming friend. Even now as the air grows cold and rigid, the hammock still entices one to come. All too soon winter arrives again, now having come full circle one continues as soul mates with the hammock. Longing to tell their companion, but reluctant to share that the weathered ropes may soon fray and a new bed of ropes will be stretched out between the trees. Until then, this hammock continues as an uncomplaining friend and welcomed escape from the busied world all year round.


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Short Story
writing abishai
religion, assembly of God, poetry, spiritual, frogs, weird, music, writting, flowers, random thoguhts
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