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Throughout our lifetimes we all search for that special place. That one spot in our lives where we can retreat to and everything makes sense. This is the one place where we can truly be calm and think things through. It is a comfort. For most people, this place is there home, or a room in it. For many teenagers it is their bedroom, basement, or porch. Some have even found their rooftop to be their special spot. I have spent quite a long time looking for mine and, until recently, I was never quite able to find my place.
Born in Annapolis, I later moved to South Carolina and, soon after, Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania will always be my home state in my heart. I grew up there and will always feel a light tinge in my heart at the sight of vast corn fields and, surprisingly, the potent stench of cow manure. I lived there for 10 years and spent K-8th grade at a small catholic school. After my completion of 8th grade my family moved once again, this time to my current home here in Springfield, VA. The adjustment was smooth; I made friends quickly, as usual, and immediately found my own niche within our vast student body, eagerly joining cheerleading, lacrosse, and numerous other clubs. After the 11th grade, I had lived here for a pretty long time, but something was still missing. I had not found my spot. I had lived here and had a house and a room and a bed, but it was still not home. This past summer, however, things changed.
One day I decided I would walk my dog through the trails next to the lake about a block away from my house. It was a calm summer day, nothing special, just nice. As I walked along the trail something suddenly caught my eye, a little bit down off the path there was tree, leaning out over the lake slightly curved inward. There was a bit of a clearing around it with spaces between its roots just big enough to sit between. I walked down to the spot and sat. I just sat there for an hour and thought about family, friends, life, whatever....