One month ago, I graduated from college. With Princeton in the past, I have the future before me. But first, I’ve come home.
Home. To the country roads that raised me. To the town that brought me to sea and taught me to see. In wonder, I wander the landscape of my youth. Staircases to the Sound. Kayaks bobbing on the bay. American flags billowing in the breeze. Acres and acres of green. Fields of lavender. Skies of blue – and pink, and purple, and orange, and red, all fading into an inevitable inky black. Wind-whipped hair and sun-kissed cheeks. Fireworks over the harbor. Country music on the radio. Ferries cruising to and fro. Ospreys soaring overhead. Fishermen reeling in the catch of the day. Handlebars balancing bags of farm-fresh corn on the cob. Adirondack chairs pointed toward the horizon. Sailboats silhouetted against the sunset. Beach bonfires – embers dancing in the midnight sky.
Here, I have learned not only to find beauty in the little things, but that beauty is the little things. And so, I can’t help but look around — in awe, and in appreciation. In appreciation of the farms, of the breeze, of the trees. Of the sky and the sails and the birds and the bay – of each passing day.
Here, I am home. Home in the sound of stillness. Home in the place that reminds me who I have always been – and who I always wish to be.
I will always be a Northforker first.