Climb a coconut tree

“And so I did the only thing I could think of at the time, I pulled my aching body out of the hammock and I climbed a coconut tree. [...] It was slow and brutal work. With each advancing stride, my understanding of the movement improved while my muscles slowly fatigued. The deep squat was the closest thing I could find to a resting position and this position further taxed my already burning inner thighs. At 30 feet I reached the crown and the real work began. I took the machete out of my teeth and began hacking. The golden globes did not give up without a fight. The stems were not directly accessible and I had to wrestle my blade through the coconuts to get to a place where I could cut. The small muscles of my feet were burning and cramping while dirty from the crown rained down on me, caking on my skin and forming a salty human mud. After what felt like hours, the first coconut fell, and then another and another. I shimmied down and collapsed on the ground beside ten golden coconuts while the muscles in my legs slowly released their spasming.”

“Climbing trees is something that I have loved since I was a child but a coconut tree is very different than an oak. For one thing when you climb a coconut tree you really do hug and hold it like you love it. It is less about branches and more about trunk. Before I go up I touch the tree and ask for permission. Trees will communicate with us if we take the time to listen. Before I chicken out I ask for support and thank it. I pray the whole way and do my best not to notice how high it is. [...] No matter I held on to the trunk and hacked away at the bushel after I tied my rope to it. It wasn’t the most graceful harvest, as my side kick could see but in the end it was the sway of the tree, the adrenaline pumping and the knowing that I can do it not just for me but for everyone that I will always remember.”