Perspective

The car was parked under the wrong tree. Missiles of brown splattered like tobacco spit on the metal surface and I had to rush before becoming the next victim. The wind whipped my hair out of place and mocked my painstaking attempts of care. As I brushed errant locks out of my eyes, I noticed him standing across the street blowing his breath on cold fingers in a useless attempt to get warm. An old truck pulled up beside him and stopped.

I couldn’t determine if I needed safety and if so, which door beckoned at the gate of the converted school building. I looked back at the man and the car and suddenly I was forced to shade my eyes from the sun’s bright floodlights. It was only then that I stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of the street. The oak tree was covered in shimmering lights and danced under morning sunbeams. Snow dusted each branch on top of layers of glazed ice. I imagined marches of confederate soldiers, KKK members and Vietnam War protestors gathering under its’ protective branches. Against the vivid blue sky and beyond the magical shimmer of the solid white tree, the city’s skyline of metal and glass formed a technological backdrop to this solitary giant standing firm in the midst of new urban warfare.

Looking back at the man in the street for an instant, we both turned our attention back to the majestic, towering tree. We stood transfixed in the startling beauty of the morning sun which touched each grain of wood lighting every crystal sending shimmering glitter into the darkest of shadows. The stranger then shielded his eyes and looked back toward me. I followed his gaze to a holly bush protected behind a black iron fence. Patches of green pierced the white blanket and bright red berries nestled safely within the virgin snow. Slipping my hand between the metal bars, I touched the cold snow and smiled.

“Have a good morning,” I cried. He waved back and I carried the crystal scene in my heart and soul throughout the appointment. Back onto the street, I noticed my car was converted from silver to brown, but it did not matter. I looked back at the enchanted oak tree and smiled all the way to the car wash.