This past weekend I had gone home for a night. While I was home my mother was watching an old show called The Waltons. The only reason this is important is because it reminded me of my time spent at my grandparents’ place in Walton, New York. They had a small modular home on the mountain. As a child, my brother and cousins and I spent many summers and weekends exploring the land. Behind their land was a big wooded area. I remember being a child and exploring the woods with my older cousins and some of my aunts and uncles. There was one particular time I remember most vividly

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I was about six or seven years old during this particular visit. On a beautiful, sunny summer day we went on one our typical hike in the woods. The older cousins had found deer tracks so they, along with one of my uncles, followed the tracks in hope to find the deer. While they were off, the younger cousins and I continued on the hike with our aunt. There was no trail, we just wandered through the woods until we came upon a clearing. It was beautiful. I remember exploring other times around their house, but none have stood out as much as that time. I can still picture the field, with tall grass about knee high, surrounded by trees. We walked through the field and ran around until it started to get dark. At that point we walked back to the house for dinner. It is one of my favorite memories up in Walton. I wish my grandparents still owned that house, I would love to go exploring now that I am older. I am sure I would be able to make many more memories just like that one. It would also be able to explore alone and get lost with my thoughts amongst the trees.