Writing 101 – Building a Blogging Habit 2

Assignment 2: A ROOM WITH A VIEW (OR JUST A VIEW)

We used to beg my Mom and Grandma to take us. We were always to young to go by ourselves. On the west side of Pettit lake there is a dirt road. Cross the road and you can vaguely see some rocks that make the outside of a trail. My grandma and her sister put those there when they were teens.  The path is not too steep, a few switchbacks and you are there.

If you listen you can hear the wind moving through the tall trees far up above you. You can hear the waves of the lake lapping on the beach. If you listen long enough you won’t be able to tell the difference between the windy trees or the lake waves at all. I can still hear it now, 28 years later. I can smell it, if you pause and take a deep. There is nothing like the smell of soft forest duff and pine. Put your nose right up against the bark of a Ponderosa Pine and inhale the sweet vanilla scented bark.

When you reach the end of the trail you are standing at the base of a huge boulder. Hike up the mountain around to the other side of Fern rock, and it’s not quite so big. You can easily step on to it and sit and dangle your legs over the edge. This huge piece of rough granite and quartz, likely brought in by the glaciers eating away at the mountains lifetimes ago.

I travel there often in my sleep. Running through the forest with my little brother.  My Grandma has passed away, 18 years now. My brother has turned his back on the family. My Mom and I are still close but its different now. If I drove up the old road, past the A framed cabins. If I took a left at the lake and followed the road around, could I even find the cabin? If I kept going and looked to the left of the road would the path to Fern Rock still be there? Is it still lined with the rocks placed there 60 or more years ago.

It is there in my mind. I can never show my children my Fern Rock. We will find our own Fern Rock. A Fern Rock they will touch and feel, smell, listen and remember when they are adults. Dreaming of the Fern Rock they wish they could take their children to.

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