Just Another Cottage in Blogville

A Walk

What I will miss beyond anything else about home is the tranquility of the countryside for walks. Today I rose with the sun and worked until three-thirty. I got off, filled my tank with the regular 87 gas, treated myself to a Frappé Mocha and stopped at my grandma's. I was totally parched and relieved by the Frappé. Grams is stuck on the couch with her leg in a brace before surgery on four things she tore... poor Grams. She's an extremely active woman and less than thrilled about her disabled state.

I chatted online with some friends, including my newly found roommate. Yesterday our housing assignments arrived in our emails, and my roommate seems, so far, very nice. Since my birthday is nine days before move-in, she said she is bringing decorations and we will party -- "an AMAZING way to start college" in her words. And no, folks, that does not entail drugs and alcohol. A total no-no.

After some other chats, I felt myself grow tense and decided to take a sunset walk over the hill to my elementary school. There is a creek that trickles by and formed the playground boundary -- in my day anyway -- where I used to walk and toss flowers into the middle with my then best friend. I was unathletic and invariably the last kid picked for kickball and humiliated myself in almost every game, so more often than not I would resort to daydreaming away from everyone else.

I packed my new MP3 player, phone with ICE contacts and information lest anything should overcome me again, a notebook and pen. As I grew closer to the school, I turned off my music and meandered along the creek. As in the days of old, I picked a patch of grass dried after being mown, rested a forget-me-not on top as a damsel in distress in need of a boat to sail her down the creek through an obstacle course of sorts - currents, algae, rocks, etc. I followed it till it dropped into a stationary pool. Downstream there is a bridge that replaced old rickety wooden planks boarded over two parallel logs. I sat and began to write, watching people on the playground and people walking dogs, absorbing the pink light from the sinking sun, and listening to the little tinkling of the water bounding over rocks. I pulled out my notebook and began to write free verse poetry to be stashed away for later formatting.

Soon it would be dark, so I up and left for home. The tension was relieved and I feel more relaxed and at peace than I have for a while. Sure, I was wiping my face of sweat and disgusted by the intense humidity mating with heat, but I felt like I had direction in my life. Writing takes me places and gives me a sense of security in so many ways. I feel connected to my future, to hope, to safety. It kept me alive when those around me were hopeless. It was my lifevest in an ocean of despair. I feel rested and ready for bed.

Good night.