The Spot - St Louis

Going home is always a weird scenario for me after having left for college. St Louis is a wonderful city, full of fantastic people and beautiful countryside, it has such a diverse feel to it – much like any big city – but one that makes you feel like you belong somehow.

            A pack of middle school boys whipped right in front of me on their skateboards as I was crossing the street to continue on the sidewalk,

“Sorry!” one yelled back at me before they disappeared around the corner into a subdivision of houses. I mean, at least they apologized which is more than you get in California where the pedestrian apologizes. My house sat at the top of the hill I had walked down and you could just see it between the trees; if you did not know what to look for you would never even know houses were even there. In some ways my house feels like a tree house, surrounded by lush, massive trees that turned beautiful fiery colors during the fall and shed them in the winter just in time for the frosts and snows to take over. When spring hits they blossom and rains pollen, which is a nuisance but you just have to take a LOT of Benadryl.

This time of year is way different. It is still green from the end of spring, flowers still dot the lawns and small land plots that have not been dug up yet, the trees still shine from the rain that we had gotten yesterday – it wasn’t as muggy which made my walk uphill a bit more pleasurable. Remembering every single crack along the way I had forgotten how normal it felt to just take a walk in the neighborhood without having to worry about bringing someone along with you or looking over your shoulder every thirty seconds. It was safe here, a happy neighborhood where nothing really seemed to go wrong, almost like a bubble that never aged.

            My feet crunched the gravel as the asphalt turned into a rocky path that led up to the large rod-iron gate, welcoming you to the park. This part of the walk was always the best intro to your destination. You have civilization and houses on one side with cars lined all along the way, and on the side I was walking there is a semi-dense forest that houses thousands of animals you almost always get to catch a glimpse of. The tree cover makes it look quite menacingly dark and the cloud cover didn’t make it much nicer either but I liked the feeling of mystery, of what might be in there watching me. I am so glad that nothing has changed much here, the houses, the trees, the untouched land. I approached the massive gate, walking through, smiling and waving at a couple who were power walking with their dog back out to the real world.

            I hadn’t walked down this way since I was a senior in high school. Crazy to think that was about three years ago and nothing has really changed except the weeds were more unkempt. The old river house that sits looking out over the wide Mississippi River looked as dead and romantic as ever. Vines hanging from the roof and the slate tiles they dripped from seemed as if they would slip off at any minute from hanging on for too many years. The multicolored river stone that made up the body of the house gave it a welcoming feel, despite the black windows that told you not to go in (but made you want to all the more).

There was a dead fountain with a centerpiece that looked like a frozen tulip, which was now more of a rest stop for hikers. We took our prom pictures right here looking out over the river, it was the first time I had ridden in a limo. I found the stairs that led down to the less-used trails; you could see that someone had tried it recently because of the shoe slides that looked as if someone had come really close to falling down the steep hill that landed on the train tracks. I hoped that one day someone would buy this old house, knowing it was property of St Louis Parks and Recreation, and would live in it again. It used to be a museum but that did not last long. I’m always afraid that one day I will come back and it won’t be there anymore. I’m always gone for so long it seems like someday I am going to come back and there won’t be anything left of my childhood because the rest of the world moves on.

Sloshing through the still damp grass underneath the century old oak trees, I remember underneath that circle of trees down the road and to the left is where I had my first kiss, farther down the path is where I saved my friend from overdosing, and also where I had my best talks with some of my best friends. I smiled as I reached the overlook that you can see far into Illinois from, I remember walking my dogs over here and putting them up on the banister, scaring them to death. I remember laughing with my friends and family in this very spot.

A deer gingerly stepped out from the bushes below the overlook and picked at some berries, I stayed perfectly still as I watched it nestle it’s way back into the brush not noticing my intrusion. They must be so used to people now it wouldn’t even have mattered if she saw me. Sometimes I feel as though I am the deer, that I have gotten so used to my surroundings that I forget how the world is actually supposed to be; I am supposed to run from frightening things and yet they don’t phase me anymore, I am supposed to defend where I live and yet, I let things pass by without a word. The river, though dirty and to some not very pretty to look at was stunning today - maybe because I hadn’t been here in so long, but it really was magnificent. It was raised up almost to the Illinois’ farmer’s crop, I always felt bad for him because the river was always threatening his livelihood this time of year and sometimes followed through with it’s cruel blanket.

I didn’t mean to be so secretive when finding my way to the no-so-hidden-anymore trail my friends and I used to get down to the river. I didn’t want to go all the way down there, just to the spot. I couldn’t remember if it was down this narrow pathway or the next, it was hidden so well and on such a steep slope that I was half afraid to try it alone. Then I saw a tree that my friends had marked a long time ago with a knife and I knew this was it, also because now I could see it wasn’t so secret anymore. I half swung down into the overhang-cave, almost falling down but I was able to steady myself enough to not hit my head. The limestone rock was covered with new graffiti and that made me sad, this was such a sacred spot and in just three years this is what happens. But, I could still find it, “Kelli – ‘09”. It was faint because I had carved it out of the rock instead of use a sharpie like the stupid kids did. My imprint was imbedded in the rock for as long as it the rock would let it. Thankfully the overhang, which wasn’t large, was just deep enough to keep rain water out for the most part. It was on a hill so the rain drained down to the tracks and into the river. I sat down on the ground and looked out again at the river – to me, this was the best spot in the entire city. This was the spot where I did a lot of thinking and a lot of praying while I was in high school. This was where I made my most important decisions, not all good ones, but this is where it mostly all happened. I took a deep breath and I suddenly realized that this place would not hold the closure that I was searching for, this is not the place where I was going to find peace, no matter how comforting it was at the moment. It was from here that I made new beginnings; it was here that I made the decision to come out to California; it was here that I made the decision to continue on in life never looking back but only to remember what I learned. It was here where I learned how to become an individual. This is a starting place. This was the right place to be.