The art of climbing trees and other forbidden lessons to children

In "my day" children were always outside on bikes wandering and discovering until the streetlamps went on. We were fearlessly independent and considered the whole world to be our playground.

As a child it was drilled into me that tree climbing was forbidden. Almost unknown for that era in parenting history there was an explanation given with it rather than "Because I said so." I guess that it was included to reinforce the gravity of this dangerous, childhood preoccupation.

According to parents, trees were made for shade during the summer and to behold the glory of their turning leaves in the Fall. They would bring quaintness and beauty to a home along with a rural quality that would be an endearing asset to one’s house. At the end of their lives they would be cut down to provide wood for a fireplace that added to their practicality. They were an all purpose creation that would serve you well if only by growing.

What they were not was a jungle gym or a childish habitat. Tree houses were frowned upon since they would incite an immature mind to explore further into these massive structures that could be fraught with danger. After all, wasn’t there a well known saying of foreboding, “being out on a limb?” These glorious entities had the power to seriously limit your future lifestyle if one dared to enter their boundaries. One crack of a branch and you could be crippled forever being destined to ambulating with a cane or sentenced to a wheelchair. You could develop a concussion and would turn into a different, dark spirited person, become a vegetable or to top it all off just plain die.

A tree was no place for a child and if you were found in one there would be “hell to pay.” Along that line were the poisonous fruits that could be found throughout a neighborhood or in fields that would surround it. All apples or pears were sprayed with deadly poisons that if ingested would leave you writhing in agony and also causing your death. After all, you wouldn’t want your parents to be burdened in conversations of saying that once they had three children and now have only two. “Just think of what it would do to us.” Our newly formed minds would see the devastation that we could wreak in the wink of an eye and profusely reassured our progenitor’s that such behavior would not be performed. To emphasize our sincerity we would speak “cross our heart’s and hope to die.” Once satisfied, the parent would straighten themselves to their full height and pat themselves on the back. Their lesson had been instilled to their children’s core’s and they wouldn’t have to concern themselves anymore about driving a child to the hospital with a broken arm interrupting their daily routine. They were smug.

As children we knew that the best thing to do during these serious sessions was to listen raptly, set down promises and thank our parent’s from keeping us from harm’s way. We also knew that trees didn’t only grow in our yard. They were in abundance in out of way places that could be reached by bicycles. Fruit also was not the evil personage that we had been educated in. There were plenty of abandoned orchards in our area of roaming that hadn’t seen pesticide in thirty years or ever at all. We knew this implicitly since we had already eaten our fair share of these treats and none of us had attended each others funeral. We just marked it up as one more parental lie that was told to keep us from enjoying life and becoming as morose as they were. We had it all figured out. Luckily, our parent’s hadn’t.

The first tree that you need to learn the art of climbing on is an apple tree. Not only are they sturdy and compact with numerous places for balancing comfortably but you can rest your back upon the trunk while munching away at it’s fruit. It’s truly an ideal starting point.

The next ones are the maples. They have a wide matrix of branching and one can easily find a foothold at the bottom of the tree. Their limbs have ‘spring’ to them and it’s quite obvious when branches have become rotten. They will display it vividly with the limbs being either a shade of grey or the bark brown and peeling. Rotten branches are never to be toyed with unless one enjoys a twelve foot fall while the others are pounding and smacking you on the way down. A fall from a tree cannot be easily hidden even with minor injuries. You will be cut and scraped and develop mysterious bruises upon your body. It will also necessitate the creation of yet one more lie for covering up your wayward endeavors such as “I fell off of my bike.” That’s a perfectly acceptable excuse for the damage wrought upon your body and you might even get a new bicycle tool kit out of it. After all, it’s important to service one’s bike and to make sure that the chain is in good working order. We wouldn’t want to have another accident now would we?

The oaks were the motherload and had endless possibilities. Not only did they provide acorns to pelt each other with but they were massive and seemed to reach to the clouds. Like a maple, they had that same ornate matrix of branches but one could go even higher and still be comfortably seated almost thirty feet off the ground. They could also be the fodder for childish bantering and dares. It was not unknown to hear a partner in crime saying “Don’t look down” as you passed the twenty foot mark causing you to freeze and wonder to yourself what in the hell were you doing. The most common dare would often be in the form of hanging by the arms from branches. If you perfected a two arm swing the next challenge that would follow would be “Bet you can’t do that with one arm.” Children may be brazen but not necessarily stupid. A one arm swing would take not only confidence but an acute knowledge of your strength and body mass. All of this would need to be carefully weighed against your standing in the childish society and hierarchy. Yes. I did one arm swings but I sure wasn’t thirty feet up when they were performed.

My favorite of all trees was the cherry. There was a massive one across the street in a wooded area with bark that would shine and the most delicious cherries that you could imagine. These trees were easily accessed by a crook towards the bottom and grew outward more than upward. The clusters of cherries could be found on the interior and exterior of the branches providing a satisfactory meal without having to go out on that dreaded limb that my parent’s spoke of. This was a delightful tree to sit in comfortably while in youthful conversations and was a real joy that I remember vividly to this day. However, there was a dark side to this tree and it lay in the glistening bark of the branches.

For some reason or other that bark would stay intact and shining while it’s wood had decayed to veritable sawdust beneath the coating. I remember succinctly moving from the trunk that I was resting comfortably at to procure an unusually delectable appearing cluster of cherries. When one breaks rules aka-going out on that limb, one must compensate. As I furtively moved towards the prize I had held onto a higher sturdy branch in a fail safe maneuver and was gingerly moving my feet along the bottom one carefully to retrieve my objects of my desire. It was then that I heard the snap and could see the rotted wood crumbling beneath my feet. In an instant I was hanging in place with legs dangling free. My companion immediately scurried to my rescue and surveyed the situation. He sprinted down to the bottom of the tree to judge the height knowing I was strong enough to keep holding on. Once upon the ground he could judge my predicament with a practiced eye and advise me as to my best solution. The floor of the woods was soft and I was at less than the twenty foot mark. “It’s not much higher than the garage and it’s clear” he yelled knowing that I had mastered jumping off of garages a year ago. Being a trustworthy and best friend I followed his cue and let my hands go. I fell with a thud hitting the soil and leaves with my feet and then toppling backwards into a somersault. My friend was duly impressed as I raised myself up, brushed myself off and removed stray leaves from my pony tail.

I could’ve easily climbed back up a wiser person than before but that was enough of an undertaking for one day. I didn’t have to prove myself to my pal and both of us walked from the tree nonchalantly. We were on our way across the street to see if we could get up on that garage one more time

Author's Note

I'm new to writing in this venue and definitely not a professional. In most cases my grammar is reflective of local color but could use help on punctuation. My stories are based on truth and made to entertain as well as wrap the past around you from those golden times. Please.By all means tell me what you think. I've been a nurse for well over twenty years and can take constructive criticism. Just be kind ;)

Reviews

[Cicera]

Learning is playing. Mostly that concept is forgotten as soon as the kids are enrolled in school. As work and responsibility come we sometimes do not even have the time to do the learning in the classical way. The benefit of outdoor education today is acknowledged and encouraged by educators and pedagogues. The idea behind it is not simply having fun while learning, but it is more about the experience that brings in the lessons.

Surely nothing has changed today except the circumstances. Children play different games and parents have to contain their kids in distinct ways. Again and again the children will always invent ways to go around a prohibited ground and make their discoveries despite the limitations.

What parents do is practically right, not only to quieten their consciences in regard to the safety of their kids but also because some restrictions can pique curiosity and trigger a searching mind to go beyond the locality in search of novelties. What they unanimously underestimate for most of the time is the fact that their children-in their ways to becoming independent individuals-do not lack common sense as much as they imagine. Adults are children whose perceptions have been altered by time. Wherever there is an adult, somewhere there must be someone else more adult than him.

Besides, learning is not a solo workout, just as playing has a different taste when done in a group than when practised on one's own. Kids can help each other learn, not only by daring but also by helping each other.

I like how you describe each tree with the associations it brings to your mind of the games you played and the lessons you earned around and about them. It is as though nature was a school and each one of those trees acted in the capacity of a teacher. And the best teacher is the one who lets his students try and get the best-or the least-of what they can get from his knowledge, and not just a teacher who keeps on drilling you on this and that. Something so blissful about self-teaching is that you do not doubt the authenticity of your learning as when someone else tutors you on it.

Although the times have changed, these practical sides of life remain the same. Naturally you wouldn't expect everything to be exactly the same in a world so hooked up to Internet and electronic devices. But the ways of conceiving science have also been changing. Maybe apples falling down from old wise trees no longer would inspire new Newtons to come forward with new principles we never dreamt about. Yet who knows. The nostalgia should always remain because that is a part of a living memory, and these stories shall always to that matter testify.