Energy Revision

As myself

The neighborhood I grew up in was ideal for the type of child I was. I was explosive and adventurous, I was a tom boy in pig tales with pink bows. The neighborhood was built on old land own by some family. There were ancient trees and it was built around a series of lakes and trails beside the neuse river. When I was really young before the built the houses up there were very few houses and the trails led to huge fields of nothingness lakes and the river.

I idealized my sister’s and always wanted to be around them and they yielded to me. We had been there a few years and most of the kids in our neighborhood were around our age, schoolmates, and members of our church up the road. My middle sister was old enough to leave our street by my mothers standards, so when she went outside I always made a fuss about wanting to go with her. They would pull me around the neighborhood and my little red wagon to all their friends house as my mothers orders. My little wagon often became and instrument of fun and dangerous races down steep driveways. My eldest sister being 10yrs older than me and my middle sister being 6 yrs older they were old enough to watch me. When I was 9 years old and had a little more height on me my middle sister would take me on her more dangerous adventures. We met up with a few of her friends and set off to the trail at the end of my road towards the lake. The ringleader lead us off the path down the creek to a point where the creeks split. Everyone would equip themselves with sticks to combat the spider webs network clinging to the leaves. It was a fortress for us. It was the equivalent to fighting through South American rainforest and stumbling on an ancient Mayan ruin. We came to a clearing where a small mass of land that split the narrow creek in two and a labyrinth of wise trees wrapped in a network of vines. The water was clear and full of life and color. Reflecting on this place it seems scenic and celestial. We spent hours of our days there swinging back and forward. Sneak back into the house right before mom would wake up from her nap and change clothes.

A new family moved across the street from us with a son that was near the age of my sister and her friends. He was quickly absorbed into our pack and invited to join in on bi-daily expedition into the woods. A few weeks later we met at our normal rally point and briefly noted his absence and traversed into the woods. We were there 20 minutes and the newbie emerged from the trail with his father. His father scolded us and told us how dangerous it was and sent us home. The ringleader hurled some threats and home we went. Later in the week when we noticed he hadn’t informed our parents we partied up ad set off on out exploration. When found our haven destroyed every vine had been cut and every knickknack that had made itself there gone. The grief was deep and shared throughout the group, and as most youthful things are short lived.

Hurricane Fran came, flooded and remodeled that land and nature created new havens up and down those trails that I discovered years later when my sister went off to college. Now the forest has recovered from the damage from the storm. Fallin trees cut off the old paths and created walls of plush vines, and a new path to the river.