Box 15 "Recalling a Sense of Place"

I spend an average of 6 months a year longing for my place of peace to be capable of a visit. The other 6 months, I spend in peace, awe, and wonder. The most vivid memory I get when I close my eyes is the warm air surrounding my body and the cool breeze blowing my hair into my face. I lean back onto the soft green cushion and prop my feet on the empty white rocking chair in front of me. I relax and take in every smell and every sound hoping to keep them safe for the next 6 months I will be away. I can smell fresh cut grass from the neighbors long day at work in their yard, the flowers my mother has planted only 6 feet ahead of me, the gas and smoke from the disruptive cars that pass by. Hearing nature, hearing animals play out their life is one of the most amazing sounds. I heard the claws of small, furry, brown and sometimes black squirrels scrambling up the large old tree that lives on the edge of the road. I wonder what they are saying as I hear the high pitched squealing coming from their such small bodies. As they run by, the neighbor's dogs begin to bark. The sounds from each dog are so different, creating a musical of sound. And then I am sent back to reality as a loud, rusty truck sends gas fumes into my nose, and the sound of spinning tires into my ears. I open my eyes and look around taking one last glance. I stand up and let my bare feet walk the 10 feet of cold cement leading to my front door. This is my last night, until spring returns, that I can sit on that comfortable, green, rocking chair.