Monday, September 7, 2015

Journey to My New Home

   I closed my eyes and gripped the blue paddle of the canoe. The sky was cloudless on that day, the 12th of April. I opened my eyes to a gush of arctic wind. The glaucous color of the canoe almost blended in with the sea that was below me. I looked forward and there lie a tall, thin ice cave. I lifted up my paddle and rowed into the cave, saying goodbye to the cyan sky. I made my way into the mouth of the cave while water droplets fell from stalactites and on to my jeans making me shiver. I looked at the water, which was as clear as ice. I saw fish swimming along beside me. I watched them swim faster and faster until they jumped out and back into the water, their scales shining like sapphires.
   I leaned back in the canoe and closed my eyes once again, thinking of my hometown and the little kids wearing brown dresses and sandals on their little feet as they ran by on the cobblestone street. Some of the girls sat on the side of the street, drawing in the dirt with skinny sticks. The smell of warm bread was always adrift in the air as it seeped out of small wooden and clay cottages. But I knew I wasn’t there. I was drifting in a boat into the darkness of a cave.
  As I drifted further into this cave, I was greeted by a bright yellow light. This light was shining as bright as the sun. As the boat drifted closer, I realized it was. I was out of the cave and greeted by a sandy beach. Though the air that touched my skin through my golden jacket was still cold, the beach warmed me up on the inside of my body. Before I reached the beach, I heard the song of a canary singing from some brush in the distance. My destination lied on the other side of the brush line where the sun’s rays touched the earth and the birds sang.


   The moment by boat touched the sand, I spotted the green Greyleaf Willow tree. I jumped out of my boat and my feet slammed against crunchy grass. Before I went anywhere, I reached back in the
boat and grabbed my jade embedded bag. Right as my hand reached the bag, my feet were taking off up the hill and between the patches of shrubbery. When I got to the top of the hill I saw my house. I stood and watched my mom tend to her garden to the north of the house. My baby sister was in the front playing with the leaves of the lilies. My dad, sitting inside by the window eating some celery–his favorite snack. I know this home is not the house I knew so long ago, but here in Greenland I have my family

1 comment:

  1. I like the image of the fish swimming and "their scales shining like sapphires." I also like the ending where you mention family being a form of "home."

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