A Treasure in the Truest Sense

The city was like a bubble of heat. Encapsulated by the large buildings and carbon dioxide, the scorching air stuck to the metropolitan concrete fortress like a piece of used gum to the bottom of a restaurant table. The slate grey buildings seeming to stoop in the heat, overwhelmed the canvas of the sky, light blue, framing the contours of the structures. Invisible, the humid fog rested itself on anything and everything. Suffering trees and surrounding flora, enclosed by metal penitentiaries on the sidewalks, stoically bore their fate. I, however, was off to a place where flora and fauna advanced unaided and unaffected. With the liberty to adventure and the freedom to live without bounds, this was the place to be. Tent and beach chairs were already in the car, contentedly anticipating our destination. The GPS read two and a half hours to arrival. Before we had reached the next crosswalk, I was asleep.
Cedar Point Campground hugs the coast. This is the place where nature runs rampant in the best way. I have many companions from school with more traditional weekend waterfront property, but regardless of generous invitations, we always choose to stay here, Cedar Point. A gateway, into a wild environment that we so lack in our lifelong exposure to an urban climate. Liberated from sleep by the sweet, evocative scent of pine trees, my eyes open. Standing under the dense cover of trees, not buildings, churns to life my senses. The revitalizing scent of moist wood with hints of the familiar saccharine sap fills the air. As far as my eyes can see, verdure adorned by the mahogany torsos of shrubbery and timber speckling the azure sky that will later turn to black drapery, extending on to infinity, pinholed with small glints of light. The air is mild and lays weightless upon my skin, as my feet dig themselves gradually into the spongy ground beneath. I hear only the slightest, distant harmonious ostinato of crickets and birdsong, and the light pitter-patter of squirrels and chipmunks dashing around in my peripherals. It is a joyful scene of natural liveliness and vitality.
In every corner of the campground, in every corner of the beach, nature runs wild and that is what makes Cedar Point so special. Cedar Point poignantly represents freedom and meaningful order in a world that often presents quite the opposite. It remains my place for relaxing, and it represents vitality with a whole new meaning. This is where I find happiness and tranquility, in a world that highlights the atrocities too much, and fills the news with climate change, nature dying out and pollution. This is the place where all that seems to dissolve, and that is what attracts us, and perhaps all the other fellow campers to this unique, unusual area. No one from my family grew up here, I don’t have familial ties here, and no one told us directly about this special dot on the map. We found it. A treasure in the truest sense. As I witness its impact on each of my family members, I realize that we all have a personal connection with this magnificent place. And that is powerful.
What a break from the well known chaos of the city, and the constant, incessant noise, because, when you are sitting on the beach at Cedar Point, and your feet are gently digging into the sand, and the bay water is softly advancing and receding with the gentle whiff of salt air, and the distant giggle of your little brother, snorkeling about 50 feet out, ebbs and flows in a similar way, this is peace and tranquility, and this is where I come to find it. This is substantial. The ability to come to a place of liberty and embrace the differences from your home is profound. Impacting my outlook on the world in the most brilliant way. Cedar Point to me, is magical.