In the midst of such a busy town, there is an unadorned place of solitude. It may not seem like much considering it is a vast circle of massive rocks with a giant pit in the center. However, the sound of the cars flying by its calming sanctuary and the view of the sky couldn’t be better. I often go there after school when I want some time alone. It is my place of isolation to consider my thoughts and be distracted by only nature. As the birds hover by and the wind blows, my thoughts begin to emerge. This place of mine makes me consider views that i’ve never had the chance to do before. The lifeless grass is scattered along in patches where nobody has set foot, yearning for human interaction.
The pit is damaged and hurt. It has been through breakups, drunk teenagers, bad days and curious animals. The bottom is flourished with shards of amber and olive glass bottles. The pit has been the face thats been slapped over and over. Nobody cares about it’s feelings and if it wants to be covered with these new decorations. The only thing that can protect it is the tall rocks surrounding it’s fragile heart. These rocks leave a cloudy dust on my hands and bruises on my knuckles. It’s their way of fighting back.
It is the shoulder to cry on after a long day filled with exhaustion. The green shrubs are refreshing and the blossoming flowers of light pinks and bold yellows. As time passes though, this rock pit becomes more exposed, stripped of the nature who has lived there for years. It is no longer hidden and private. I can’t feel as thoughtful anymore since the guard of nature is no longer protecting my thoughts.
I never let anyone into my special place. I remember, my best friend whom I never see and I ran down the precipitous hill leading up to the flourishing nature and hefty rocks. We were giggling and laughing as the birds were singing high above. Sitting along the dusty, stiff rocks throwing chunks of leaves into the bottom. The fond memory contributes to the significance of the rock ring. It is a place where I feel warm by her hug and cold with the distance between us.
It is not what it used to be but, the atmosphere and colors through the year propel me to transform my new thoughts into ones that I couldn’t have before the lonely rock pit was deprived of green, sprouting nourishment. It is always refreshing to look down at the lonely rock pit and see the rustling of the shrubs and the stillness of the obstinate boulders.