Narrative Essay – English 12
May 4th, 2007
May 4th, 2007
Whoosh~ The gentle morning
breeze sailed through the treetops like an ephemeral schooner. A single ray of
sunlight shone through the dense foliage like Odin’s spear piercing through a
cloudy sky. The sight was awe-inspiring, yet I felt an uncomfortable gaze upon
me. Try as I might, I could not find the reason nor the source. So I ignored
it. Besides, something else soon diverted my attention. A solitary leaf, caught
in the wake of the wind, waltzed toward me and brushed against the fur on my
side with the tenderness of a lover’s caress. I shuddered. That sensual feeling
spread to all four legs and tail, awakening all my senses. Suddenly, with
inexplicable hunger, I rose on my hind legs and drank in the scene.
Feeling fully
invigorated, drunk on the scent of the morning dew, I proceeded to search for
something with a little more substance to sate my hunger. I scurried up the
trunk to the branch above me, ran to its end with a few short hops, and leapt.
The joy, the utter freedom of soaring through the air is indescribable. No
amount of sugar coated acorns could convey this feeling of purest delight. The
way air ruffled my fur, the rush of being at such a height, all helped to
propel me forward to a brand new world. Time became meaningless as I flitted
from branch to branch among the emerald trees under the azure sky.
I ended my
flight upon a massive oak tree. The rough bark under my paws littered with
scars. I stepped gingerly. I was again, in awe; this oak was not just old, but
ancient. A steady stream of light pulsed through the veins of the oak – life
giving and mystical. The oak stood with an air of ageless wisdom, demanding
respect from all that stood before it, or in my case, on it.
I
had only taken a few tentative steps when I felt the slightest breeze, and
suddenly, all the nerves in my body cried out: MOVE! I jumped to the side just
as the massive talons of an owl on the hunt tore pieces of bark off from where
I just stood. I could feel the oak quiver, less from pain than from
indignation. With one powerful flap of its wings, the owl flew up to the next
branch. With its back now facing me, the owl turned its head right round and
with its two disproportionately placed eyes, looked right into my soul,
calculating its second strike. Truth be told, I was thinking the same; it was
only out of sheer dumb luck that I was able to avoid such an untimely death.
Without thinking, I darted towards the end of the branch and once again took to
the air. This time I did not feel the air rustle through my fur nor the feeling
of release as I soared high amongst the quiet trees. This time, only the
feeling of sharp talons digging through my flesh and bones registered. I did
not feel pain, having been numbed, knocked senseless out of terror. As I waited
on the final moments of my life, I could only hope that no one will ever find
my secret acorn stash — crack.
