Back to My Roots

     I take pride in growing up in Arkansas; it has become somewhat of a defining characteristic of mine. It calls itself "The Natural State", and while it might not be the first state you think of when discussing mountains, camping, or hiking destinations, it definitely lives out this title in its own unique way. 

    A high school friend and I went hiking in the Ozarks to see the beautiful Arkansas in all its glory, and it was beautiful. The first thing to note about this excursion are the trees. They cover the land for as far as the eye can see; the entire mountain range looked like rolling waves of forest green. We then entered the trees to meet them in person, being greeted by their shady leaves and woodsy cologne. Our legs took us forward through the trees, then a left through the trees, then up a winding trail through the trees, and then we got lost in the trees. We got lost in the trees--on purpose. Their leafy arms gave us directions so wherever the nearest branch pointed was where we went. They pointed us all the way to a cliff that overlooked the waves of forest green, so we did what anyone in our generation would do: take a self-timer picture. 

    On our way back to the valley, again being led by the tree tour guides, we came across a running stream, so, naturally, we took a swim to cool ourselves off. The mossy, smooth rocks on the floor of the stream made it slick. It recently had rained so the water was moving quite rapidly, gifting us with a natural water slide that we played in for hours. Having grown up here, my friend and I knew the area very well, so once it came time to leave, we simply said bye to the trees and stream and made our way to our car with ease. As we left, the scenery slowly turned less and less green and a little more cement grey, even in "The Natural State".