High in the hill tops, through a long row of trees, sits a place that is special to me. Well not exactly, it’s upstairs in my house and down a long hallway. But, it is a place full of pride, peacefulness, and joyfulness. A place where I can relax, sleep, and do homework. I appreciate all of the hard work that was done to fit my tastes. This is my bedroom. My bedroom is a very unique room.

My room captivates the eye throughout. When walking through the door, you are immediately engulfed in maroon, gold, black, and white colored walls. The black and white zigzag rips through the middle of the top gold half, and bottom maroon half. An extremely large, stuffed tiger sits on my bed guarding his kingdom of random, printed pillows thrown on my bed. Hundreds of eyes watch you as you stand and try to take in the explosion of color. For I have many pictures of my crazy friends hung neatly on the walls. A timid night stand next to my bed is the only piece that does not seem to fit in the room because of the bright, rainbow colors. It looks as if it were an evergreen tree amongst a forest of leafless maples. The appearance of my room is aggressive, but the sounds can lure any bird to come and sit on my windowsill and sing along.

The sounds of my room are soothing and peaceful. The choir of birds sings to me every morning as I wake up. The random tweets and cooing form a beautiful symphony. I’ll step out of bed and hear the occasional moan of the floor beneath me. The creeks soften as I tiptoe around my room. The hushed twirling of the ceiling fan is constantly dancing in my ears. The temperamental furnace speaks up off and on when it is too hot or too cold. No sound overpowers the other for the intonation they produce is flawless. I can always rely on the hum of the TV coming from next door to harmonize the existing sounds. The sounds in my room are literally music to my ears, but the scent of my room is just icing on the cake.

My room’s aroma engages your nose from the start. My favorite scent is the light, tropical air freshener cascading from my night stand. It throws you into the tropics of Panama, climbing through pineapple trees. The contrasting Sweet Pea scent comes from the open bottle of lotion on the other side of the room. The two work together immaculately though, almost as if they were professionally choreographed dance partners. The final scent is an ever-changing, humble whiff of fresh air from the ajar window. On a hot summer’s day, I can infer that the smell of fresh cut grass will ascend up into my room. In contrast, on a cool summer’s night, the fragrances of campfires seep through the window and cuddle with my room. The campfire scent always tries to stain the fresh scent of clean clothes, but the clean smell battles back. After a night’s duel, the clean linen prevails and greets me as I awake.

I never thought I would have a room that makes me smile a mile wide everyday. All happiness is fulfilled when my senses make contact in this place. I have a one-of-a-kind bedroom that not even David Bromstad could recreate. I don’t know how else to say it other than; I love my room. Even after I walk in and out of it a million times, I will forever think my bedroom is very unique.