After today that is.
What a fantastic summer! I mean, it's just been chock-full of adventures for all of us! However, there is one final adventure for the summer that needs to be done, and sadly may be left undone.
I need to say goodbye to my beloved Finger Lakes. The sad thing is that my family may move before I return for Fall Break, and so I must leave what I call the loveliest spot in America. It is very lovely around here, and I sadly shall resent Virginia all the more, because to me its beauty can never compare to the land of lakes, falls, and woodlands that I know and love. It's something to do with growing up there all my life, nothing to do with Virginia, except that she is my place of exile far away from the land I love. It's like that song Sam and I like to sing, "My heart is in the highlands, my heart is not here, my heart is in the Highlands, a -chasin' the deer ..." That's what it's like.
The pain of separation would become nearly unbearable at times, but those were due to peculiar circumstances. I just wanted to go home, and look out upon my familiar lake, and feel the fierce south wind in my face. I then would wish to be out on the water in my little sail boat, gripping the sheet hauling at the sail, with the wild wind lashing at my face tousling my hair. And I with hands burned by rope and sore manning tiller, laugh wildly at the wind, for then the boat is flying. Then the thrill comes over me, and my eyes blaze blue and bright beaming with such uncontrollable joy. Crashing o'er waves, hiking out over the blue, I am alive and happy, wild and joyful! And yet, I would not be there, but tired and defeated from a day of classes and people I could not understand. What a tear would then fall, when in anguish I felt the wild calling of the wind, and could not follow! When I was lonely, the call of the wind and water was ever stronger.
So, I must see the old places again. The fact is that if I live in Rochester, I shall have less opportunity to see the old places. A greater distance of an hour or half-hour (yes, we measure distance with time here) will make everything more remote. Things out of sight, and out of mind, are only recalled to the soul by fleeting memory and his dreams.