PROMPT: Imagine yourself in a place you like to be (not necessarily someplace you like to *go*). What do you like about it? What are the most intriguing/appealing aspects?
As anyone knows, I'm primarily a homebody and generally don't leave home unless I absolutely have to. However, home life has become more and more strained as of late, and I'm finding that I'm not 'liking' being here so much anymore... so there goes my initial first answer. But after some reflective thinking, the obvious answer came to me. I'm not sure whether this counts as one or two (or more) places, but I'm going to go ahead and count it as one. Right behind our old house (it's on the same property as our current one, just the opposite end), there's a nature trail that leads to a nearby lake. Not very many people take this trail, and with the exception of a couple months out of the year, not even that many people go to the lake. Although, the part that I go to, practically nobody ever goes to. (You're not even technically supposed to be able to get to it.) But still, I digress.
The trail is a very tranquil, quiet, and peaceful stretch of land that always leaves me in awe of the beauty and power of mother nature. No matter what it is that should be troubling me, all it takes is a quick walk up and down those hallowed hills, and I find that even upon turning that first bend through the trees, I find myself with a sense of inner peace and understanding of myself, my thoughts, my emotions, current situations, life in general... I don't know what exactly it is that makes it so different from anywhere else, but I can always feel a definite positive shift in energies every time I walk through them. The deeper I go, the more powerful it becomes. I would say perhaps it's the getting up and around and getting my blood flowing that maybe gets things going, but this has never happened with me anywhere else I should take walks; only there. Although generally I don't opt towards being completely alone, when it comes to that trail, I find that I really need to walk that path with nobody else with me to feel the full effects of nature's energy all around me, lifting me up, cleansing my soul. The smell of redwoods and leaves; the sound of trickling water across the rocks in the brook beside the trail; the gentle breezes through my hair; the warmth of the sun kissing my face. No words can truely do it justice; it's a thing that must be experienced firsthand. Even when having been stuck in writer's gridlock for months on end, I find that as soon as I get out there, even if it may not solve the problems of the current project, it certainly starts to immediately open my mind to the possibilities of other things deep inside that yearn to be written; simply needing me to be the go between to put my pen to paper. If I were wise, I would bring a notebook and pens whenever I go out there, but I never seem to think of this until I'm already out there and it's too late to turn around and go fetch them. One would think it could wait until I get home, but honestly, my mind brims and bubbles over with so many deep, introspective ideas that trying to remember all of them by the time I get home is always a losing battle. If I can even remember a handful of them by the time I get back so that I may flesh them out into something beautiful, I consider it a success.
Although the path may be very dusty and the rocks mossy and spiderweb-laden, it never stops me from finding a quiet spot and just taking it all in, sometimes for hours. Some may find the silence deafening for so long, but I don't hear it that way. I hear a constant stream of birds chirping, leaves rustling, water flowing, life becoming. I feel the closest thing to "zen" I've ever felt out there.
Nearing the lake, you start to encounter more people, although I've yet to find one - even one - who didn't seem to be as at peace as myself strolling through there. Be they on foot, bicycle, or horseback, it's a common thread that all seem to share who come through, and it's another thing that I've yet to encounter anywhere else. Where the trail begins to curve into a paved path, on one side of you, there's a small waterfall with benches nearby; each dedicated to someone's loved ones. On the other, there's the sprawling lake, glimmering in the sunlight. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, this view is absolutely idyllic and seemingly out of a painting. If you follow the paved path, you'll reach the 'proper' entrance to the lake, where more people are. However, if you go around the other way, off the beaten path and through the trees and tall grasses.... You'll find a few more benches, and a creaky wooden dock, seemingly abandoned and forgotten by time. In younger years I used to dare to wander out onto it, but nowadays, you set one foot onto it and it sways heavily from side to side. It's a pity that its strength seems to be going and no longer able to support the weight of people, as was once intended, but that's alright. There's a small hill through the trees that will bring you right down to the water's edge if you know the exact spot to follow it down at. My mother knew about it and used to bring me down there every weekend to enjoy nature, and to let me collect leaves and shells and rocks, sometimes bird feathers, or anything else that happened to strike my fancy that I found down there. The trees that now mask this area have since grown thick and heavy, but at one time they were pruned back neatly, and you could see the small 'stairs' that had been carved out in the dirt. I can still find this spot easily, nearly with my eyes closed, as it's so deeply imprinted on my memory. The stairs too have seemingly eroded away with time, but I don't mind scaling down this hill the hard way. (I won't lie - I've taken a few small tumbles down it before getting down and back up it since those steps have worn away, but it never seems to dissuade me away from that particular clearing.) But once down the other side of that hill, it's the same as it ever was. It's hard to really describe the terrain of this clearing.... It's a mixture of dirt, sand, pebbles, and larger rocks. At certain points there's tall cattails growing out of the water near where the water becomes land. It does so in such a way that it seemingly encloses the sides of this clearing into a small safe haven, provided by nature, untouched by man. It seemingly provides you with the perfect front row, center seat of the lake. During the day, every little ripple in the water sparkles and glitters in the sun, but even this beauty can't hold a candle to the view at sunset. It's one of the most, if not the most, breathtaking sights I've ever seen in my entire life. During my angst-ridden teen years, it wasn't too uncommon for me to 'run away' (always short-lived) from home and find solace in my own secret world here that nobody else seems to know about. There were two occasions where, although probably not the safest move, I stayed out all night and slept against a couple of the larger rocks. (Not the most comfortable thing in the world, nor would I recommend this, but I digress.) Typically though, all it would take was a good cry to get it out of my system, knowing that here, nobody would ever have to know; just me and God. Then the sunset would come, seeming to embrace me in its gentle golden glow as if to comfort like a mother with her child. Ever since having lost the ability to turn to my own mother for comfort, this is a very intensely emotional and powerful feeling for me, and does make me question how real (and I feel they are) that spirits really are. Every ripple, every wave on the water slowly begins the realization that whatever may be troubling me will too eventually pass and change, just as the water ebbs and flows. Every time someone's hurt me, every time something goes wrong, it's ultimately just a change in the tides of the human experience that make up this crazy thing we call life. Some may be larger than others, and may take a little longer before the water becomes tranquil again, but it always eventually does. But likewise, the water is never 100% completely still - a gentle reminder that there will always be problems that come up in life, but that they aren't the end of the world, no matter how painful or unfair they may seem at the time.
Walking back home I always feel I have a clearer head and perspective about things and a more positive outlook on things in general. Slowly as I near home the sounds of normal life begin to become nearer, and things begin to feel a little more normal, simply with a much more peaceful feeling about me. I only wish that everyone could find their place like this, although some never do. I also sincerely hope that the inevitable day comes when I'm finally able to move out on my own, that I should be able to find another equally as powerful place to be able to retreat to near wherever that new home may be.
