The cold steel of the foothold grazed my fingertips, one after the other. Rung after rung, ascending up the tree, breathing in the bark and dried moss that grew on my natural ladder. Twenty feet. Thirty feet. Forty feet. The higher branches loom above but my gaze drifts to the right. A tight wire. Bound steel suspended between me and my plateau. One foot on the wire, then the other. One at a time my fingertips leave the safety of my home tree. The confidence in my balance clouds. Sliding the right foot, then the left. I feel unsafe. A breeze comes through the trees and it feels like I’m being pushed back by an invisible hand. My arms flail; jolts of fear shoot up my spine but I find my  balance. “I will not fall” I say to myself. Shoulders stack over hips; hips stack over bent knees and I breath in. As the breath fills my lungs the world muffles it’s self all I can hear is the hiss of air escaping through my pursed lips. I shut my eyes and disappear away from the trees. Slide the right foot, then the left. I unfurl my wings, it’s too nice a day to sit in he trees being scared. Slide the right foot, then the left. It’s so bright in the sky, doing barrel rolls to escape the heat. Slide the right foot, then the left. It’s time to go home to the trees, I’ll miss the sea air. Slide the right foot, then the left. I open my eyes. In front of me is the plateau. Clipped in and back to the edge. “One, Two, Three, go!”. Gravity is suspended, then a jerk of the rope and I’m a bird once again, soaring through the trees, speeding towards the other birds.