That day, we ventured deeper into the forest than we ever imagined we would. My parents had always told us remain within sight of my backyard, in case one of us tripped and scraped up our knees. But we weren’t in my backyard anymore. And we didn’t care how battered and bruised our legs became. We didn’t mean to disobey my parents that afternoon. But I told him that I saw a garden snake and I wanted to follow its trail. By the time we lost sight of it, we also lost sight of my house. We froze for a few moments, wondering if we should turn back to the neck of the woods that we knew best. Then, he looked at me with an eager smile and ran in the opposite direction.
I laughed and chased after him, hollering the entire time. I lost sight of him through the thick of the trees for a few moments, but continued to run in the direction he took off. Suddenly, I could see a clearing about to pop up in front of me. I kicked my legs up higher, running as fast as my little feet would allow me. I shouted for my friend, calling to him so he could find me. Just as I lunged myself into the clearing, my friend’s arm emerged in front of me and brought me to a halt, and not a moment too soon.
Our feet rested on the edge of a vast lake. It stretched on and on, past our eyes and out of our sight from all around. It sparkled under the summer sun. The coast would cut into the lake at little points, blocking some of its sides from our view. However, nothing could stop the lake from merging with the cloudless horizon. The blues matched up perfectly, making it impossible to tell the difference between the lake and the sky. We remained mesmerized for what felt like hours.
Suddenly, my friend plopped down next to me and began to unlace his sneakers. I followed his lead and did the same. I waded my feet in the cool water, moving them lightly back and forth. And then he pushed me in. I fell onto my side; the shallow water washed over me. I laughed as I sat up, grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him in too. He fell in next to me, water covering his entire face. He reemerged and sprayed water at me from his little cheeks. I covered my face with my arms, protecting it from his shower. Bringing my arms down as hard as I could, I drenched him in waves of splashes. Our laughter could not be contained as playful splashes and little fishes nibbling on our toes. Finally, we decided that it was time to go home for the day. However, before we left, we promised each other and ourselves that we would return to this lake every single day to have fun.
And that’s what we did. That summer we spent every day along our lake. We would do everything from swimming to trying to catch fish with our hands. Sometimes, we would spend hours walking along our river, desperate to discover its end. As hard as we tried, we could never find that part where the water touched the sky. As summer faded away, we continued to visit our lake. We watched as the leaves morphed into magical colors and floated from the branches to the water’s surface. Even when winter reared its brutal face, we never became discouraged from visiting our lake. We would take part in ruthless snowball wars, creating forts and stocking up on ammo when given the chance. Spring greeted us with dandelions that hugged the entire lake. We would always pluck a few from the ground to bring back to our mothers. And we continued to play along our lake for most of my childhood.
I didn’t notice what was happening until it was too late. At first, I didn’t think much of the occasional plastic bag that would appear in our lake. I would wonder where it came from since we never found anyone around, but I never thought too long on it. It didn’t take away from the beauty of our lake. However, I began to worry one day when I saw a turtle trapped in the rings of a six-pack. Worry swept across my face as I looked more closely into my lake. There wasn’t as much wildlife around as I remembered. Did I just imagine that as a kid? Did I also imagine how clear the water was? I confided in my friend, who had skipped our last few walks to the lake, with these realizations.
“And what are we supposed to do about it?” I couldn’t believe he would give up so easily on our lake. He believed that there was nothing wrong with it, and if there was, it didn’t matter. “It’s only one lake.” But it wasn’t just one lake; it was our lake! I was not about to give up so easily. I went down to our lake the next morning with intentions of cleaning up every bit of garbage there. However, I didn’t think there was that much garbage until I actually tried cleaning it up. After I filled the one and only bag I brought, I decided that I did enough work for the day.
I began to advocate around town for not only the lake, but for the forest that surrounded it. The forest, as well, was losing its beauty. Trees began rotting, animals were slowly dying, resources started steadily depleting. I tried to book conferences with anyone I could think of— the town’s park rangers, the parks and recreation department, the mayor. However, I never received a reply. Months passed and I slowly forgot about cleaning up the lake. I forgot about visiting the lake in general. I realized that I was putting more effort into that lake than it was worth. The lake never did anything for me. Years passed and I moved away from home to New York City.
It took many years for me to return home. I didn’t believe I was so caught up in my work until I took a step back. Most of my old friends were married with children now. I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke to my best friend growing up. I hadn’t seen my parents in months. I hadn’t seen my childhood home in years. It didn’t take long for me to find myself standing at my old, front door. I flicked my cigarette butt into a sewer drain before ringing the doorbell. My parents were ecstatic to see me, talking on and on about whom I must see while I was in town and how my old bedroom was exactly the same.
As they droned on, my eyes were drawn to my kitchen window. I stepped closer and closer towards it, then peered out. At the end of my backyard no longer stood rich trees. Instead, a white picket fence stared back at me. From behind it, a large mansion blocked out the sun. Every backyard on my street bordered along monstrosities passed off as homes. When I asked my mother about what happened to the forest, she said that it still existed, but the government sold off most of it.
I drove down the road, studying the homes alongside me. As grand as they tried to appear, nothing could compare to the thick oak that use to live here. Nothing could compare to listening to a bird’s tune or the victory of capturing a snake after chasing it. After speeding for several blocks, I reached the last of the forest. At first, only dirt greeted me at the tips of the forest. More trees were cleared away, meaning that the property owner planned to build more houses. I hiked through what remained of the trees. The ground was mush and difficult to walk on. Many of the trees rested on the dirt, rotted out and died long ago. Before I knew it, I reached a clearing.
I forced myself to choke back tears. Not a single creature lived around the lake anymore. Fish lay dead at the foot of the lake. I couldn’t see anything further away since the water had turned a dark brown. Decayed trees engulfed the perimeter of the lake. The flowers disappeared long ago, without leaving any sign of their existence. Every vibrant color that once pumped the heart of the lake vanished. The lake that once supported so much life died. I stood in shock, wondering how the world would let this happen.
No, I let this happen. I gave up on the lake. I thought the lake never gave me anything, but it gave me the best years of my life. It gave me my childhood. I acted like it owed me something, as if I took it under my wing by calling it my personal lake. The lake was never mine. The lake belonged to the Earth. The Earth that spent everyday caring for me as I barely gave her a passing thought. I stood in shock, realizing that mankind and myself created the brown water that distinctly drew a line between the lake and the sky.
