A Sence of Place
A sense of place is a feeling you get when you belong somewhere. It is a place that you love and feel comfortable in no matter where it may be. For most people their sense of place belongs to their hometown, where they grew up, or where they experienced the best years of their life. For others, it may be a place they have visited or lived in for a short time, unlike their permanent home. This place tends to give them a certain feeling of belonging which their home can't provide. My sense of place belongs to a destination I visited a few years ago on vacation and I continue to return there every year. I love my home town, and I always have, but its the great state of Colorado that always gives me this feeling that I belong there. This is where I need to be. Until now, for the past eighteen and a half years of my life, I lived in a small Long Island town called West Islip. West Islip is a well-populated, predominantly white town, with a minority population well below ten percent. It is a nice quiet town right on the water. Like every town though, it has its really nice rich areas, and its unpleasant areas. There are many places to go, and things to do all the time. It is very inhabited with a variety of stores
and bars and it is less then ten minutes from the beach. The beach is a big part of the town. Every day, whether it is nice or not, people are always going down to the beach just to hang out and barbeque, go surfing, or fishing. I am extremely fond of the beach, and I miss it very much. The cool breeze, the warm sand between your toes, the crystal blue ocean stretching out over the horizon like a never ending blanket of water is what I admire most about the beach. It is a truly a wonderful place, but it is still not where I find my beauty, nor my sense of place. My place is deep in the mountains of Colorado, where the constant scent of pollution is replaced with the freshest, and cleanest air imaginable. The mountains stand before you like giants, so strong and so powerful that they intimidate you to the point where you feel like nothing could compare to their greatness. The snow falls gently, like a million tiny feathers. It layers the ground in the fluffiest most beautiful powder you have ever seen, unlike the wet slosh that we call snow here in New York. It's like looking at the top of a freshly poured glass of Champaign. The trees stand tall and proud and begin to scatter out evenly as you go higher and higher up the mountains to the point where they disappear. It's only you and the mountain. I love to go up to the highest peak possible and just lay there for a momen
Some common words found in the essay are:
Mother Nature, West Islip, , York It's, line snow, west islip, feeling belong, sense belongs,
Approximate Word count = 932
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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