A single drop of dew falls from the frond of a cabbage palm twenty toes above my tent, crashing onto the mesh window above me and shattering like shards of glass above my shut eyes.
I grumble in my haze, considering I had simply fallen again asleep, however by way of the crusted lids I can inform it’s far much less darkish. I will need to have been asleep for some time I assume.
I roll over, rub my eyes, and am about to sink deeper into my sleeping bag after I look out towards the prairie. After which I see the dwell oak.

I didn’t even discover it after I set my tent yesterday afternoon, right here on the sting of the palm hammock. Kissimmee Prairie Protect State Park is understood for its stars, and I selected this spot as a result of it peaks out from the dense tree cowl and sits like a seashore above the infinite waves of palmetto.
The dwell oak is probably twenty toes into the waves, and robbed by winter of most of its decrease foliage, it could not have been a lot to take a look at the day earlier than. It definitely wouldn’t have obstructed my view of the celebrities.
The evening earlier than had been a little bit of a disappointment. The clouds rolled in an hour after sundown, so any hopes of counting stars from mattress had been dashed. I did go a lot of the take a look at for my first backpacking journey away from house.
I discovered the campsite, didn’t get bitten by a snake, didn’t blow myself up when making an attempt out the brand new camp range, and began the hearth on the primary strive.
However I had a tough time attending to sleep when the opossum I scared away from my campfire got here again to taunt me at midnight by rattling the bushes for a half-hour.


However now that’s all forgotten. Previous the foot of my sleeping bag, above the blades of palmetto stabbing skyward just like the spines of sea urchins, the dwell oak towers in entrance of me, standing black in entrance of the navy sky that fades to white after which orange because it sinks to the earth under.
The menacing branches of my oak twist just like the spiny fingers of a phantom, clutching on the evening because it flees. Behind me the spatter of morning dew breaks the silence like distant gun photographs. In any other case, all is quiet. A tidal wave of tranquility washes throughout the prairie over my tent.
I verify my cellphone and see that it’s 6:30. It could possibly be some time earlier than the solar friends over the seashore. I shouldn’t have completed the Gatorade final evening, can I make it until daybreak? I’ll should, I’m too drained to rise up. I modify my pillow to face the dwell oak.
I stretch and look again, and the navy has now turned to lavender and has risen to the tree high. The low ribbon of orange has now melted into puddles of butter and cranberry, however their hues appear to vary every time I deal with them.
The fingers of the beast have now multiplied and turned to tentacles. Extra leaves appear to have sprouted since I final blinked.
Nonetheless I relaxation with out shifting. With every breath the wall of evening is pushed additional behind me, being overtaken by bands of clouds like stretched balls of cotton.
The dwell oak nonetheless stands darkish earlier than them, however now seems just like the crown of Medusa, every twisting follicle capped with tiny serpentine heads shaped by the sprouting leaves. My abdomen jogs my memory that dinner was twelve hours in the past, however I’m turned to stone by my captor.


After which she is vanquished by the arrival of an arc of gold approaching from under. The clouds start to half because the remaining waves of pink disintegrate. As streams of dew trickle down the partitions of my tent, the shadow within the distance turns into a tree once more.
Excessive behind me track birds start to chirp, seeing from their heights what I but can not. After which inexorably it arrives. The ball of blinding hearth peaks above the horizon, then crests and blasts the morning into my tent.


I’m pulled exterior by an irresistible urge for caffeine. As I flip again and gaze over the ocean, the ripples of palmetto with garlands of glistening spider webs relaxation under a blanket of mist, the islands of palm within the distance shimmering like mirages. Blades of drying grass crackle beneath my sandals. However nonetheless there may be the hush, the calm.
All troubles from the opposite world are distant recollections. Nothing exists past the prairie. All begins with the palmetto and ends with the sky and folds of clouds. Nothing can harm me now. I’m the place I’m meant to be.





