Essay of place



The farm, my old house, when I was there all I wanted was to get away but now I’d give anything to have it back. Almost all of my childhood memories were made at that house. I moved there in second grade and it amazed me; there was a huge yard, a pond, barns, fields and it was a house of our own. Up until that point we had only lived in apartments so it was a huge change. For me, moving there was the start of my life.

I don’t remember much from before we lived at the farm, but maybe that’s because it has impacted me so much more than any other place I was before that. Each season at the farm had something special about it.

            In the spring everything was always so pretty, the grass changed colors and you could smell spring in the air. When you live in a neighborhood or a city it’s not like that, some of the beauty is lost. The spring rainstorms were always my favorite to watch; we would sit in the garage watch it poor down outside and sometimes run out into it. Then every once in a while the pond would flood and we could go pick worms and catch frogs.

Then spring led to summer, summer was my favorite. Summer meant no school, summer meant freedom. Summer time when we were little was riding bikes down the driveway and exploring the creek and coming home covered in mud. As we grew up we started to go outside and tan or try to find other things to do to amuse ourselves. We would go on the roof and jump off onto the trampoline or swing on the branches of the willow trees. Summer sunsets and laying out to watch the stars at night was always the prettiest, because there was nothing to block the beauty, no houses, and no lights.

In the fall and winter everything always got boring. Fall meant the leaves would start to fall and we would rake up the yard and make a huge pile to jump into, which was fun but got old. Fall was the end of summer and going back to school. Everyday got colder and colder and we began to stay inside all the time. Winter had very few advantages, every once in a while when it snowed we would go play and make snow men, or go sledding but nothing that great ever happened in fall or winter.

Somehow the farm made everything more beautiful. Everything was more distinct and away from civilization.  There was less worry and stress. Now I drive by and nothings left, everything is knocked down or burned. The land is to be used for building businesses. It’s sad so much of the country is now being destroyed and more and more city is moving in.








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