A lonely streetlight shone brightly in the distance, and it's golden rays reflected
off the broken glass, the shards shine like semi-precious gems standing out
in the desolate desert that is urban America. Behind me I heard a clock chime twelve times, midnight. I was only an hour into my journey and I was not nearly ready to turn back. It had taken a lot to get to this particular park, but I needed the peace and quiet; the tranquility that I knew it would offer me. I walked for a while, the gray-white sidewalk basked in the glow of the full July moon, little pebbles of sand crunched beneath my feet, and after the first mile, it felt as if my heels and balls were aflame, as if I were walking on burning embers. Just then, the sidewalk came to a jagged and abrupt end, and a short jump later I was teetering on the railroad tracks, the cold iron felt pleasant against my sore, bare feet.

For a while I walked on the rail, and all my concentration was set on not falling. Soon the sweet scent of damp earth and a campfire that had recently been extinguished crept into my nostrils, and it was then that I was brought back to present instead of being lost in thought, and a sense of foreboding overcame me. I realized that I had walked into a tunnel made by trees, the blue velvet sky, numerous stars, and full moon were no longer visible though the canopy.
My other senses seemed heightened, to take the place of my somewhat useless eyes. I began to hear every rustle in the leaves, and every high pitched chirp from the crickets seemed amplified. I felt my heart beating against my chest, and the temperature dropped.

As I left the cover of the trees and stepped into the light, it seemed as if everything was right again, my heart slowed and I put my shoes back on, and all my senses returned to normal. Now I heard normal sounds at normal volumes; cars driving all too fast on the highway, laughter and an old Pat Benetar song being belted out by the occupants of a bar just feet from the tracks, and I could smell the stale alcohol and cigarette smoke wafting through the air. I leaped back to the sidewalk and felt much more secure in the light given off by the glowing neon blue and red open sign, the streetlight, and the sky itself. Was this my destination?

A few feet ahead was a stone bench in the center of a pet cemetery. When I sat down, I found that I might as well have been a million miles away from home, but I knew in my heart, that  it was only a short twenty minute drive back to my reality. I found solace in that place, I was completely alone but strangely enough, I was not lonely. The warmth of the streetlight and neon glow of the signs kept me safe, and the semi-quiet environment allowed me to become lost in my thoughts.

I puzzled over many things on that little stone bench This was not merely a
journey of five miles, nor a time span of three hours. The path I was on had been forgotten by many and only remembered by few. I learned that night, that it was not where I was going or where I had been that mattered most; what mattered most was what I gained from each and every experience. The sights, sounds, tastes, and feelings would be unique to me. I learned that my life would be a lot like that walk that I had taken, (with the exception of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" being the soundtrack). I have taken it many times since, both alone and with others. The route can be lonesome and scary, or brightly lit. It will be an endless
stretch of unknowns that offers nothing but choices and possibilities. I learned that this life is more than just a journey through the woods, it is one of self-discovery, of battling demons of past, present and future. This journey is a growing up.