For some, a front yard, or a “dooryard” as we call it in Maine, is no more than a place to store vehicles, display decorations, and mow the lawn. But to me, the front yard is much more meaningful, for it has been a constant setting for recreation, relaxing, and ripening through the years. From learning how to ride a bike to celebrating my sixteenth birthday, I have enjoyed a variety of experiences on the Ridge. It is a place where I have felt perfectly content for nearly eighteen years, and the only yard I have ever known. The tall pine and old wagon wheel by the road forever guard my personal oasis, better known in my family as “out front.”

In August of ninety-seven, a Dodge Charger drove in the yard carrying a baby who was making his first trip home after a month in the hospital, with still two weeks before his anticipated arrival. The cedars out front, soon to be dismantled during the Great Ice Storm of 1998, welcomed the child to what would become his favorite playground. By 2005, after much geometrical re-configuration, the circular driveway had become the perfect baseball diamond for an aspiring eight year old. The yard knew that same boy, growing into adolescence, would come out to wait there for the school bus a little after six in the morning. And some days he would come off the bus with a knapsack full of textbooks and extra clothes, while other nights he returned later in a Jeep, carrying a duffel bag or an alto saxophone. Even when school was not in session, the yard would wave “goodbye” as the young man went off to play at baseball camp or to work on his Eagle Scout. Nevertheless, he would tromp back down the driveway after each event happy that he was returning to the place where he felt perfectly content.

Even with all the hustle and bustle, the front yard was still a place in which I could unwind and feel content. On summer nights, I might be outside in the yard playing a pickup basketball or baseball game with neighbors as well as riding my bike. Once I began running Cross Country, the front yard was the spot where every four mile run would end. Believe it or not, running long distances can actually be relaxing, especially when my return destination is my own front yard. At dusk, the western sky provides a perfect backdrop for enjoying a soft drink and a book there. No matter the occasion, my front yard created the perfect arena for social gatherings, recreational activities, and whatever desired contentment.

Whether I am traveling across the continent or just going to the general store for milk, I know that my personal oasis will be waiting for me when I pull in the driveway. This routine for me is a privilege which many people do not have every day, and I am thankful for the opportunity to come home as much as I do. Because of this, my yard will always hold a special meaning in my heart and soul. I will always feel perfectly content as long as the tall pine and old wagon wheel are outside guarding me and the entrance to my world. And last autumn, they watched me head off to start a new chapter in my life. But I’ll never forget my yard, my home, nor the experiences I have enjoyed there.