Sequoia Dream

Far From Alice

June 1st, 2016

Out of my window is a sidewalk.

It's probably where all of the power-walkers heard about everything they didn't need to know. It's probably where one kid learned to ride a bike for the first time, but I guess I'll never know, because I've never taken the time to see what goes on with other people in my neighborhood, even though I'm homeschooled.

What I do know is that the Sequoia tree forest was once planted by my grandfather, I know that my neighborhood used to just be a giant forest. And I also know that Alice does not live near me.

I've only known her for a few weeks and she is the nicest, warmest, prettiest, most welcoming friend I have ever met, which I guess isn't saying much because I haven't met many. 

The first day I met her, she sang songs from the sixties and early seventies, and taught me the lyrics I didn't know so that I could sing along.

The second day, she and I went to the lake and talked, and laughed, and listened to Classic Rock, and danced.

The third day, Alice invited me to her house where I met her older sister Heather and her golden retriever, Pumpkin. And also her parents whom where just as sweet as her and had her same bright-green eyes.

The fourth day, she and I went to the fair and won a cake at the booth. We also cheered on the ignored jazz band until the guitarist gave a big smile to both of us, but the biggest to Alice, which I was fine with, because you can't help but feel happy for her.

The fifth day, we rode our bikes to the mall and tried on clothes at all the stores, and then left without buying anything.

That weekend and the rest of the second week, Alice and I stayed in her beach house and we had the most fun.

Today, Alice and I are biking to my grandfather's Sequoia forest to have a picnic, and I have never been more excited. I wait for her to show up to my door and while I wait, I pick some of the flowers by my doorstep and tie them together to make a flower crown. I probably won't wear it though. 

After a while of waiting, I see Alice pull up on her road bike. It has peace signs and flowers all over it and it has a basket on the handle bars. Today she wore sky-blue, high waisted shorts with a tie-dye shirt with the band The Grateful Dead on it. She has flowers in her bleach blonde hair, which is curled and pulled back in a ponytail. She wearing natural-looking makeup and gives me the biggest smile with her perfectly straight, white teeth. 

Every time I see Alice, I never think to compare myself to her. She isn't as stereotypical as you may think. She actually likes older things like Classic Rock, old movies, TV shows, and books. She and I are both old souls and that's what I love the most about her.  

"Ana," she calls to me.

I get up to greet her and she gives me a friendly hug.

"I'll get my bike," I say. "Wait here."

Alice waits as I walk my floral, blue mountain bike away from my long driveway.

"Ready?" she says.

"Yeah, how long do you want to stay?" I ask.

Alice thinks for a while, "A couple hours if that's okay."

"That's fine, my parents don't really care how long I'm gone."

"Neither do mine," she laughs, "I think they trust me too much."

I climb over my bike, and Alice starts pedaling right away, I catch up to her and she talks to me the whole way there.

"What did you do this morning?" she asks me.

Alice cares a lot more than most people I have ever met, which again, may not be saying much, but still.

"I just ate breakfast, and did nothing else interesting."

"Same," she says. "So how do you get to this forest?"

"Just take a right on Ivory, and then a left on Greenwood, and once you keep going straight, it'll be on your left."

"Okay."

Alice is a very good bike rider. She always knows where she's going and never gets lost or forgets a street name. She stops at the corner around the forest. "I wish I would have known about this before."

"Well it's not your fault, since you live so far away."

I follow Alice to the bike rack, and we chain our bikes up. I think about how if someone were to steal on of our bikes they would definitely take her's, she did a nicer job at keeping it clean opposed to me and my bike. 

Alice steps slowly and quietly over to where she can see the whole forest. She has a fascinated look and she takes time to admire every tree. Each very tall, as the all are, with their beautiful redwood.

"There aren't very many," I tell her. "We just called it a forest because it has about as many trees as our neighborhood."

"I think it's a great forest."

"Oh, you haven't even seen the most exciting part," I say.

"What?"

"The Sequoia Dream. It's the first tree my grandfather planted here, and it's right in the center."

"Why is it called the Sequoia Dream?"

"Because one of my grandfather's friends was a professional musician who needed song writing inspiration. So he visited my grandfather's almost-finished forest and sat under the tree. He ended up writing a song and calling it Sequoia Dream, about nature it can change your perspective on everything around you."

"Interesting," Alice says.

I nod in agreement.

Alice and I make our way through the trees until we find the Sequoia Dream, and right when we did, Alice fell back into the grass and looked up at the sky for a while. 

She sighs, "You never realize how great nature is until you feel part of it? That doesn't happen to everyone."

"So Part of Nature would be like taking a while to realize what's around you?"

"Yeah, instead of taking some lazy picture and leaving without a care. Nature is our friend, Anastasia. You can't stand around it and pretend that you are its friend, you have to engage. I have no other way of explaining it."

"I can understand that."

Alice gets up to look at me once I lie down.

"Seriously," she says. "Every single person should be able to spend at least an hour outside just to think or relax. It's stupid when people act like that's impossible, it's all around us, for fuck's sake."

I had never heard Alice say "fuck" before. I thought of her being careful with what she said, but she made no hesitation during that sentence.

"Anyway," she pauses. "Let's get out that picnic."