How it all started

Driving too fast in a borrowed ‘74 Bronco down a steep mountain road, it was before 8, on a crisp early spring morning when she lost control. Over correcting twice, to avoid flipping over, 19 years old, she decided to just let go of the wheel. Hands free, looking out through the windshield at a skyline of alpine peaks against a cloudless blue sky and the Lake below, her last thoughts were of beauty and love. The Bronco left the Earth, floating weightless. Time stopped, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a slight smile curling up the edges of her mouth. Light sparkled across the Bronco’s chrome bumper, the lake rippled diamonds, the sun warmed sharp granite outcrops that surrounded the Lake like a crown. The truck pitched forward gently as the object began its descent. Below the road, between a grove of conifers and an enclave of cabins, the outstretched limbs of douglas fir tree caught the vehicle, halting the imminent crash five feet off the ground. The truck landed, swayed then held, the motor cut out, the tree’s branches cracked and groaned, settling under the sudden and profound weight of the Bronco and its  driver. Motionless, she opened her eyes to see tree limbs scattered and draped across the hood of the Bronco. In the sudden stillness she realized she was alive and breathing. Her heart beat pulsed in her ears drowning out the sound of birds. Warm blood flowed blue, brimming with proteins, iron, and oxygen streamed through her veins connecting organs, soul and skin. She opened the drivers side door, and found the ground freshly exposed from recently melted snow, forgiving and fragrant, Sierra soil smelling of piney musk and honey.  Stepping outside the very truck that could have been her tomb, listening to the sound of birdsong returning, the air around her warming with the new day, she realized she’d been saved by the tree.