Psychdreamer, life of a dork

i wrote this essay as a placement test for college english, i don’t think it was entirely on topic, but it was somethign i put my heart into. how certain landscapes define us. i think we were supposed to generalize after a quick anecdote, but its hard to have a quick anecdote about trees, and rocks, and the beauty that surrounds us, or the skies, or the people that helped shape who we are. i remember as a child running through forests and over hills by myself for hours. i was at peace with everything, i felt one with the trees and the sky and life. things were good. i often dreamed of staying out there, in a tent or wigwam, away from everyone and remaing one with the earth. unfortunately a lot of that faded for me, why? because my life took a few turns for the worst and i never had the chance to go back. a couple summers ago i went with my sister and mom to the redwoods, i had the urge to just keep walking when we went on hikes, just keep going not turning back with them, just walking in silence through the old forests among the fern and moss with the coninual mist falling upon my head and shoulders. but i didn’t. i will go back there one of these days, and just backpack through, on my own. i don’t think i’d want anyone with me, unless they were willing to walk hours in utter silence and just look, and listen, and feel. again, one day i hope to do this….

here’s the essay anyways

N. Scott Momaday once said that “there is great good in returning to a landscape that has extraordinary meaning in one’s life.” Mr. Momaday may have had the right idea. There are certain landscapes, or environments, that help define us in who we are as people. The landscape that, I think, most shaped me is my childhood neighborhood.

My childhood neighborhood was not the typical American cul-de-sac, street, nor was it even near a town. I lived in a forested area in El Dorado County called Swansburrow. There were lakes surrounded by trees, roads shrouded by dark forests, houses buried deep in he woods, and hills covered in vegetation of the tree variety. In short, there were trees, of all kinds and sizes surrounding me and my home. I look back on those years of my life and just remember the life that those trees provided, the safety and comfort that the trees provided for the inhabitants of Swansburrow. With our houses hidden behind a veil of pine and Manzanita, people felt they could be more themselves in a haven of solitude.

Solitude, that’s what people moved to Swansburrow for. The families would have get togethers on holidays like 4^th of July at the firehouse, but that would be the only time the adults would really interact. There were a few families that were intimate as friends, but mostly the adults kept to themselves and let the kids create the bonds. Every person under the age of 21 knew each other, and were considered kids in Swansburrow. Those without cars went around the miles of road on foot or upon bicycle. Even amongst our friendships and adventures, however, we were alone. We had the solitude of a community spread out and disconnected. We learned how to fend for ourselves during the long summer months while our parents were away at work. The older kids watched us, as long as they wanted, but let us go off on bike rides away from them, away from rules and expectations.

That environment truly taught me how to make decisions on my own, and take care of others. I was the oldest of the younger kids, so I was the one they turned to in the midst of a problem. I learned how to make fair decisions that benefited everyone from my experiences in the forest of my childhood. When I moved away from there, into town, I took those lessons with me, but I couldn’t take the solitude, or the trees that kept me shielded and safe.

I agree with N. Scott Momaday in his quote:  “there is great good in returning to a landscape that has extraordinary meaning in one’s life […] they define us, and we say: I am who I am because I have been there.” Having lived in Swansburrow when I did really shaped who I am today. I have revisited the area since I moved away from it, and have since learned that I had a singularly unique experience that no child will ever relive. They have torn down my trees and built houses up to the edge of my lakes, but they have not taken away the Swansburrow in my mind’s eye, or the memories I accrued there.