My favorite place in this whole wide world is the beach. And the San Rafael Wilderness. And Heritage Park. And the third reclining bench to the right in my back yard. Mainly, I love being outside. I can't pick a favorite spot, that would do injustice to the rest of the places I love. Each of these spaces hold really vivid memories, some ridiculously awesome, some terrible, some both. But just the fact that the mere thought of these places evokes some sort of gut feeling in me really stresses the significance of them.
I've lived near the coast my entire life. For the beach not to be a major part of my life is sort of insane. I've been to beaches up and down the central California coast and experienced some of the warmest, most amazing weather in Malibu to some of the most terrible, windy, sand-fliningest beaches in Pismo. But looking back, I'm glad to have those experiences. Same with the San Rafael Wilderness. I went backpacking one weekend on a well-traveled trail with my boyfriend and our friend, and it was forecasted to rain heavily the next day. Our two day trip in April was cut short based on our judgment of what was safest. On our way out, we passed by a troop of boy scouts who were really intent on moving forward and didn't seem to care that we said there would be heavy rain. They ended up having to be air-lifted out of there, and I watched all of this on the evening news that night with my mom. Crazy!
Oh, Heritage Park. So many good times. So many firsts, so many lasts. The tower, the pirate ship, those swings, and the booze. 'Nuff said. And the third bench to the right in my back yard, you ask? Well that is my designated poolside spot. That's where I lay in the sun and refuse to swim in my lake of a pool because it's so damn cold all the time. Seriously, who needs a 75 foot long pool that's easily 4 lanes wide? It never gets to a reasonable swimming temperature. So I hate it. When I buy a stand up paddle board I'm just gonna paddle around in it.
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