Calls of a loon drift over the fog
Waves lapping a soothing rhythm,
Keeping beat for the song of the morning birds.
I awake to a beam of light,
Fighting its way
Through the drawn curtains of the bunkhouse.
Warmth surrounds my body as I crawl out of my sleeping bag,
Still in my swimsuit from the night before.
I walk down to the water -
Foam has become trapped on the edge of the gentle waves.
I poke the sand where the deer tracks lay deep in the moist earth,
The sun peeks up from behind the mountain.
I take in the smell of the pines surrounding the beach -
My mind is calm,
My body at ease.
I could live in this place forever.
It is where I played as a child,
Discovered who I am as a young adult, and
Where I will always come to remember
When I am old and gray.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.