The tree which was easily climbed to convey him to the roof bent out a bit away from the roof line. Down is simply not the same as up.
I watched him, and cheered the kitten on with pigeon cat noises, until he finally climbed a bit up the tree then began the tricky business of backing down. He was taller and more mature when he strode across the grassy lawn. The time period he meowed and tried false hopes looking for an easy way down was short, but stressful.
I think of the stress I undergo finding the central thread and writing a presentation for teachers. It is tense being up on the roof ledge wishing for an easier way. It is humbling to reach out and realize I cannot run down a tree trunk or just dash off my first thought and wing it. No, every bit of what I plan has to fit in a time frame, and be coherent and worth the teachers’ time.
So I meow and freak myself out. Then, finally, I run the copies of the packet and bring the presentation to a conclusion. My nerves will jangle me even as I get out on the tree bark. Until I’m half way through and see my audience thoughtfully engaged and the clock not running out, I can breathe better.
Of course, when the demonstration is done, there’s relief and a bit of swagger across the lawn. And I would like to think that the next time, I’d not meow and fret half so much.