The picture conjured up a feeling of serenity in me. It took me to some of the memories my father had told me about when he and his brother used to roam the hills barefooted, killing possum and squirrel to eat, camping on the bluffs overlooking the lake, and spending the night cooking their supper and resting for the next day's adventures.
On one of those bluffs rests a nice get-away place for weekends or a spot to rest for a week during a vacation. At one point in my life I used it as a refuge from a place I lived during hostile times. It just represents good times with relatives, good memories of being an ascetic for a while, and an ongoing place to rest my head for shelter from a storm or for kicking around having a good time.
It's just a "spot" on the Earth, but it's an important spot for me. Heritage and very pleasant memories are bound up in that spot. Hopefully, everyone has a "spot" somewhere, even if it's not land or houses that he or she owns. People just need a spot to go to physically and mentally to make it through the insanity of life when it rears its ugly head. And people need a spot to constantly create the next memory for the times when life goes from good to bad.
I'm headed there at the crack of Spring this year, and again as it Spring closes out. It's my refuge. "Spot on," I tell myself when I go. It's spot on for a lot of reasons.
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