The pounding of the heavy rain on the metal cover outside my
sliding glass door. It’s so loud it almost drowns out the hustle and bustle of
the city, it’s kind of… peaceful. Like I’m back home, running around on my
beautiful grassy acres that I used to love so much. Gazing in aw of the 360
degree view we had of all the land around me, the hills stretching beyond the
horizon, as far as the eye could see.
I miss home, having room to run, a tree house to play in,
fresh clean air to breathe, friendly neighbors, and no noise but the gentle
whisper of the wind and the pitter patter of little critters in the bushes.
I could sit outside and think for hours! It was a place
where my imagination could roam wild for hours on end! Without a worry in the
world, no neighbor boys to make annoying jokes to me, no screaming kids or fighting
couples. Life was so great, so calm and serene, and refreshing, I miss it.
Isn’t it weird that we don’t realize what we have till it’s
gone? I took everything for granted back home. The view, the land, everything,
and now it’s gone, forever. I now live in a house that looks like a clone of
every other house on the block, same drab boring color, same windows, same
yard, same… everything. My backyard is the size of my little bedroom, and I am
so close to my neighbors that I can hear everything about their personal lives!
Every phone call, every crying baby, every fight, every song played, I just
want to be able to talk outside with my friends without the whole neighborhood
knowing what I’m talking about.
No matter where I go, no matter where I live, my home will
always be back in my quaint little house in Washougal.
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