Our Cabin in The Clouds

764 Words2 Pages
Our Cabin in The Clouds

The true peak of the excitement of my summer vacations. The joy and ecstasy of life outside of suburbia is entirely summed up by heavens in the north. This place has been my life of every summer and weekend from a young age, and shared by my parents and grandparents the same way. There’s an instant feeling of walking through the threshold of safety, freedom, and pure paradise. The instant feeling of familiarity, though it’s a vast openness of a world you can never fully experience, that relieves all the stresses of reality and overcomes you with the security of nothing but good. That’s how I always felt when I came here; it was a detox, a rehabilitation of the mind. Though it may not be feelings shared by everyone, the woodlands of the northeast have always felt like home my home.

Like expressed by Thoreau and Emerson, the woods provide purity and simplicity. The bustling city is overcast, it’s windy and grey, but the rev of the car’s engine racing out of the city limits seems to coincide with the brightness and the liveliness that grows the further you escape it. Hours fly by and the road begins to rise and wind as the clouds thin. When my ears begin to pop I know I’m nearing my destination. I roll down my window, gazing at the trees as they fly by, and the crisp air wakens me as the fresh pine overcomes and relaxes my every being.

The long road to my parent’s house goes on for miles, but a small post in the ground marks the dirt driveway the rises up onto the property. Driving slowly I notice how the changes of the season and the time between my last visit has ever so slightly changed the surroundings. The car shakes back and forth with the unevenness of the rocky little road. It’s quiet for a minute,...

... middle of paper ...

...don’t realize how dark the woods are getting and the shadows casted through the trees create a purple tint into this fairytale forest. I can smell meat cooking and the sound of fire popping and crackling. This primal instinct drives me again towards home.

As the seasons change there’s new things to explore with each visit. It’s a world of endless fascination. There’s no need to worry about what time it is, because the sky will always tell you. There’s no sound of the cars and sirens racing by, only the chitchat of the wildlife and the twigs breaking underneath the deer that eats the raspberries out by the steam. There are no words to express the overwhelming serenity, the eternal peace inside my soul – given to me by the mountain air, the fresh trees, and the winding roads that strip away all my problems at every climb and stretch until I make it to my nirvana.
Open Document