... And down the hill is the parking lot, cross the road and between the maze of cornfields are the train tracks that run north-south, curving at the last minute left into the horizon and on the other side can be found beyond view over there on my right behind that hill following the river south. This spot is where I'd always relax and unwind; thirty years old and I'll always end up by this wise oak tree. Something about laying face up in the grass, breathing in the clean air, that helps me forget whatever I'm worrying about that day. The air would be especially breezy due to the river lurking behind the trees.

It seems like it was a couple years ago that I moved here- for the job, I guess. To be honest, I moved here less than a decade ago, then a few months later, I found this place. I moved here then for the fresh start, far from anyone I knew. Technically everyone has family everywhere right? Someone like me moves builds a family somewhere, they visit home every now and then. But here's a question to the audience: Have you ever wish you had a literal place of nirvana or "hakuna matata"? Not just the "happy place" psychologists fantasize about in your one on one meetings, but an actual problem free sanctuary. This piece of land is my sanctuary.

Although its public, my small spot by the tree in this the small town New York park is barely touched by any other feet than my own. On any given day I'd dedicate a few unproblematic hours just listening, writing, reading, you name it. I like this spot particularly because it's enclosed by a few bushes and evergreens yet there's still a view of the river between the branches.

There's something serene about the sound of silence after the endless rustling of the city people's feet. Here, the clean air and the sounds of nature and occasionally the train running riverside, it all makes it seem like anything is possible and that there are no problems to worry about. It all makes me wonder why there are something nations, states, cities, and people find to fight about.

It's because of this sense of detachment that drags me away from work this evening. The past week I would find myself tending endless paperwork for work, agreeing to meet with friends and family, and failing to exercise or enjoy fun reads. It's this park that I can be myself, take a nap and be free with my thoughts. Years ago my family would go to a park like this to go fishing, feed the geese, fly kites, relax, or have a catch. One day, in particular, I remember bringing a friend from school with us on the trip. The place was a half a marathon away, so as opposed to this park my childhood park was too far away to frequent.

Sitting right here, I can't help but linger on the memories of me and her that day at the park. My little sister was over with mom and dad at the jungle gym so, she and I went to the old dark brown bridge. We stood in the middle looking down at the water from either side. Her hair flew over her eyes as the wind sped up, she couldn't have known when I pretended to push her over the rails. I ran into her a few days ago of all places on the way to my spot. We laughed over memories we made over homework, over carnival trips as friends with friends, and over inside jokes we had over music lyrics and commercials and would recall every time they came up on TV or the radio.