Calling To You Across The Groves

Seriously though, do you remember driving out to Chico that weekend, all of that dry and hot Central Valley air blowing through the car? I was running on adrenaline, which was about all I had in those days, blinding myself from the inevitable and blissful crash. I think you were looking for a brother that had run across the border to Mexico. I know I was looking for one that had run across to only quickly fading memories.

We pulled over on the side of the nearly empty freeway just to check out a grove of trees which stretched on and on in impossibly parallel lines. I remember feeling the overlap of moments, breathing in that arid and dusty air and feeling it sooth my runaway soul like an ethereal postcard from home. We just walked through the rows, talking and playing with that feeling of being young and having nothing calling to us too hard.

Something about trees that weekend... Later on in the days, we were led to a small farm where they were growing kiwis. I was amazed by those trees, about how the braches grow like a 'T' to create an environment all it's own for the fruit to grow beneath all of those leaves, oblivious to the world just outside. We crawled into this living cave and I immediately noticed the humid difference in the air that the trees were creating.

And I still, to this day, cannot shake that remarkable green light of the sun filtered through those leaves of the kiwi tree.