“Go outside.” This was the mantra of my childhood–enforced by regulated television time and inside playtime. My memories of childhood exist in outside spaces: the little woods behind my parents’ house where I would go to catch bugs and collect leaves, the cul-de-sac where I used to play baseball with makeshift bases & oversized gloves, the trees in our front yard that I would climb & hang off the branches. The house I grew up in, the house where my parents still live, has changed–the roads that I roamed with my neighborhood gang have been re-paved & the playhouse that acted as our fortress against imaginary armies sits decaying in the backyard–a skeletal frame of our childhood games. Nonetheless, my love of the outdoors remains & outside places are still significant in my adult life. 

The photograph above captures a moment of my morning hike through the Battlefield trails, which are minutes away from my current home in Marietta. These trails have become places where I can escape my hectic life & its places of obligation & routine: the desk in the corner of my room where I should be writing my thesis, my cubicle at work with its grey, melancholy hues and stacks of unfinished reports, my sink surrounded by dirty dishes that I need to clean. On these trails, I can clear my mind and enjoy the vibrant scenery and serene sounds of nature. While these trails are open to the public, they are personal places to me–spaces where I am alone with myself and my own thoughts.