Treed

“Mommy, there’s a man in the tree!”

Simeon heard the young girl’s surprise thirty feet below him. He looked down and saw the child near the trunk. “See him? Can I climb up there? Give me a boost, Mommy.”

A woman in a floral dress joined the young girl. “Come on, honey. This tree is too tall. Let’s go find one you can climb.”

Well done, thought Simeon. The mom had skillfully redirected her daughter’s adventurousness to climb a tree. And Simeon was all for climbing trees. He did it every chance he got. Anytime he was perched high in the canopy of a tree dappled by sunlight, swaying in a breeze, he wondered why our simian progenitors had ever left them.

The next morning, Clarisse stepped into his office with a stack of files.

“This is your problem now.”

“Clarisse, it’s our problem. Everyone’s.”

“Not mine, anymore.” She placed the files on Simeon’s desk. “After seeing this data I’m outta here.”

“You’re leaving?” It was the mildest of questions to something he’d long expected.

“This is not where I’m going to spend doomsday, partner.”

”The situation is far from apocalyptic, Clarisse. We’ll have time to adjust.” His words sounded hollow as bamboo. “No need to panic.”

“Please, Simeon, leave that ‘we’ve got time to make it better’ for the masses. This data pushes things forward thirty years. Effects are cascading. Social upheaval is inevitable. I’m getting gone — unless you can look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t see this coming. When the administration started bringing in graduates like us who majored in Applied Ambivalence and Ambiguous Systems, you know a lot of lines have been crossed.”

”If you’re at that point, Clarisse, I’m not sure what I can say. That’s the crux of our work. Ambivalence. Collapse. You’ll just be a reinforcing factor if you leave.”

“Look, I’m not giving up on society — just this gig.

“This isn’t isolated. It’s systemic. Where can you go that won’t be affected?”

“Terra Incognita.”

“It’s not real.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” Clarisse grinned. “You’re the one that keeps saying audacity trumps environment. I’m taking your advice and playing that hand.”

“Listen, spurious media influencers hinting at some mystical Terra Incognita holding our salvation is pretty risky. You can’t inhabit a myth.”

“Searching for an ideal is better than being treed.”

“What do you mean by that?” Simeon was stunned by the implication.

“As in being cornered. I’m not letting that happen to me,” she challenged.”Look around you, Simeon. The malaise, the denial, the ambivalence is everywhere. Get your head out of the trees.” She smiled sadly. “I’ll miss you.”

Clarisse leaving threw Simeon out of sorts, especially how carefully she’d tailored her warning to him. Unable to concentrate, he left work early that afternoon. He drove to a favorite, heavily forested park and quickly began climbing. Only when he was perched a two-thirds up a very tall cedar could he really think about why everything was breaking down. There was little doubt humanity was being treed. Cornered, prey to greed, hubris, hostility, and, now, apathy.

Up high in the quiet and calm of a forest, he could more easily move past the data, the hysteria, the remorse. But would he be able to get past the feeling of resignation? Of ambivalence?

Simeon had a simple rule about tree climbing. Never venture to the very top. It was more dangerous, more exposed. But today he considered going a little higher.

Why not? He was stuck in so many ways and maybe a new vantage would help him see things more clearly. After a very careful climb, he was hugging the treetop taking in the view. In the distance was the city of stolid steel and stone and uncommunicative glass. Stoic structures that might outlast them all.

He turned away from the urban sprawl to the sylvan sprawl of the large park. The view cheered Simeon. Maybe humanity could survive in pockets like this extensive fir grove. Maybe Sierra’s search for Terra Incognita wasn’t impossible

As reassured as he’d felt in months, Simeon scanned the lofty firs. About a hundred yards away, a crow or raven flapped from one of the treetops. Expecting it to soar off, Simeon gave it his full attention, but the bird just flapped and flapped in a puzzling way.

Was it injured, sick, or somehow stuck in the treetop? Simeon couldn’t figure out why it was wildly flapping, until he watched more carefully. And finally saw. Finally understood.

Understood it all. Humanity was heading for a fall, and we would have to climb back up. It would be hard and risky, but we could reach great heights again — in a more careful and sustainable way.

We could look to the trees. Climb up and out. Brave thin air. Together.

Exultant, Simeon raised an arm and swung it back and forth in greeting, not to a bird in the distant treetop, but to the person waving to him from that daring height.