I walk out behind the house and stand, looking out through the stretch of yard. How long has it been since I’ve visited the pond? In college, I always took time down there when I visited home. But after Owen left, I stopped going. Soon after, I bought my own house, and my spot became a thing of the past. Now though, I’m curious. Pulled, almost. I take a step, then another, and begin to make my way across the yard. As I walk through the familiar stretch of trees, and a deep, peaceful calm washes over me, I realize I missed this too. There really is something about being home.
