What would you think of when I say happiness? Do you think of events or people? Personally, I think of happiness as a place. My favorite place in the entire world is my second home, up in the remote town of Holderness, New Hampshire. Even though I am pretty much alone up there, I am still happy. This home, which I call the Cabin, is my sanctuary- my getaway from stress and work.
The only haven of peace and stability in my world, the Cabin is a beacon of hope for me, telling me that all my hard work in the school year has paid off. Every summer, I travel the seven long hours up the country, until I get to the secluded valley. As soon as I step out of the car, my nostrils are filled with the scent of the fresh water of Squam Lake, trees, sand, and dirt. I can see my grandfather’s pontoon sitting on the dock. The waves are rocking it like a baby in a crib, slowly fading into calm waters, only to be awakened again by a passing boat. I can see the trees waving to me every time the wind blows. This is a place of tranquility, except for the weekends.
Tourists plague the lake every weekend, and sometimes even on weekdays. This lake, you see, was actually the lake used for the movie, “On Golden Pond.” The tour boats travel up and down the lake, polluting the air with their incoherent babbling and disturbing the waters with their motors. Boaters come up on the weekends too, and they disturb the waters so much that you can get wet by just standing on the dock. The one thing I despise the tours and the boaters the most for is the fact that they cause the waves to crash against the shoreline so much that it drowns out the sounds of nature. The mysterious calls of the rare loon are cut off, the trees seem silent, and the waves knock the boats around so much that they hit the docks and create a high-pitched shriek like that of a banshee.
Isolation may be my companion for most of my vacation, but it’s not always bad. I can swim for hours on end and read while drying off in the sun. I can look out onto the lake and admire the mountains and clouds. Thunderstorms are a magical sight up there, as the mountains are struck by lightning, creating an image to which no firework can compare. The clouds light up behind the mountains, silhouetting the mountains and bathing the area in light, before casting it back into darkness.
This is my real home, where I am the happiest. I could not think of anywhere else that I would rather be. I do not know what I would do if I was never able to visit the Cabin again. My life would be utterly boring, plus some friends of mine live up there. The Cabin is my favorite place in the world and is the only place I can just sit back and relax after a long and hard year of schoolwork. That is what I think happiness is: the place where you feel most at home.