The pond and adjacent strip of woods were, quite literally, a stone's throw from my house; this, is where all the magic happened. Wars between kingdoms, combat training with friends, peaceful fishing trips with brothers in arms, and exploration of new places beyond my (and our) wildest dreams.

The pond is a shimmery, glorious, cesspool--inhabited by slimy fish that lurked under the translucent and fragrant water. Many a hot summer afternoon was spent on the wooden pagoda or on the rocks below fishing for the famed "El Diablo";--a 2 1/2-foot fish with blonde scales. Over the years as the eutrophication of the pond worsened, the edges became adorned with sickly, vomit-green angel hair algae that formed mats on the surface of the water, its unique smell adding to the overall stench of the area. One of my favorite parts of the pond was the area under the pagoda; if you very carefully climbed the rough, grey rocks and launched yourself just the right distance, you could access the drainage area that led to the creek. During the hottest part of the day, nothing was better than letting the cool water run past your feet, but it wasn't just the water that was cool--the air was also cool and crisp, albeit a little smelly. If you took companions with you, you could laugh as your voices echoed off the concrete walls; shrieks amplified three times as loud when a water snake swam by.

From the pond came a drainage creek that meandered into another development. To follow it, you first had to traverse the rock-covered area of the creek that was behind the pagoda. This was a treacherous adventure--it was always a guessing game as to which rocks were loose and which were stable. The rush of adrenaline when one of the smoother rocks starts rocking under your feet is something I haven't had many other experiences come close to. As someone with a nurse for a mother, I didn't need to imagine what would happen if I fell. By making it across the rocks, ducking under the stiff, thwacking tree branches, and making wide steps over the rusted barbed wire, you were allowed access to a whole other world. One where the forces and agents of nature ruled--humans, merely observers. Once you entered and settled in, the breath of the forest engulfs you; it leaches into your every orifice by force and leaves nothing of the original you behind. The forest strip recognizes you change, it feels it, and it seems to tell the fauna ";it's okay to come out now";. A family of deer walks past you, and drinks at the creek, a stick bug crawls over your shoe, a praying mantis eyes you from low in the canopy; you're now on the same wavelength as all of them.

Taking a last glimpse, you exit the forest strip the same way you came in, and as you leave the forest, so does the forest leave you.