The Drop I've Avoided

The land that I identify with strongly is my hometown and specifically, my backyard. I’ve lived in the same town and the same house my whole life. I live on a small grassy hill on Lake Arrowhead, and we have the most gorgeous view of the lake from our back porch. Mount Arrowhead and Cobble Hill line the ever-changing sky. 

The lake usually sits at 99 feet above sea level and our house at around 375 above sea level. There is a huge drop-off at the edge of our yard that has threatened to throw me into the lake for many years of sledding. The only divider between a brave five-year-old sledding expertise and the frozen Vermont waters were ginormous old trees, that looked as small as bushes from the house. The lake has seen many sides of me and holds many of my memories. 

My sixth birthday for example; I had received a toy pink Barbie convertible around the age of four and my friends and I wanted to ride in this car that we were now too big for. Three of us piled into this small car and pressed the gas to find that it was dead. So, our freshly six-year-old brains decide that the best solution is to push it down the hill (props to us for acknowledging gravity at that age). The lake saw a new me that day, and every day since.