Dear Neighborhood Park,
You have been one of life's simplest pleasures, however way too often have you been taken for granted. You have been a home away from home, and responsible for so much joy in my life. So, I suppose I should finally extent my gratitude in the form of this letter.
Thank you for providing a place to test my ability to play various sports where I could be away from the watchful eyes of my peers. A place where your tennis courts became the best place to roller blade, and unsuccessfully attempt to emulate the talents of Serena and Venus Williams.Your basketball hoop proved that ball would not be life. While your ball fields held hope for my strong and energetic demeanor.
Your tower was our fortress. Our Spiderwick hideout, demigod campsite, fairy hideaway, wizard tower, flying ship and much more. It became the malleable grounds of our imagination, and took us to places only found within the pages of our favorite books.
Sitting atop your monkey bars gave me the adrenaline rush of a true dare devil, and the confidence to show off in front of all my friends. Those cold metal bars allowed me to gain a true bird's eye view, which was always worth the risk of breaking an arm.
Hanging out on the hot amateur painted asphalt, where one could find a four square box, hop scotch, and other drawings, would become my favorite after school pastime. Here, I would learn to ride my bike, practice my skip-it and learn how to jump rope. I would scrape knees, while acquiring bumps and bruises all from playing until my hearts content. All the while teaching me that it's important to be tough because skin grows back.
The open grass that sat between each baseball field would be where I took my first puppy. The place I would launch her tennis ball as far as my puny arm could manage. Laughing and smiling as she bolted after it. Clapping in amazement when she returned after only a few seconds ready for the next throw.
This would be the place I took my first boyfriend on one of our first dates. We would sit on the swings as I reminisced on all the adventures I had taken on this very wood chip filled ground. He would find it to be an adequate location, however I would know it was so much more. The place where family and friendship bonds grew inexplicably stronger. A place that became "the hangout." The most accurate depiction of true adolescent freedom.
My neighborhood park is no doubt the ground that made me. The place that resembles and embodies the deepest characteristics of what I call home.
