Amelia Rose

Waves

I always find myself right back here. The home I grew up in is about a three minute drive from the nearest beach with a wide view of Lake Michigan. I drove there all the time for sunset or to dance in the sand or to just stand and stare for a while, when that was all I was capable of focusing on. I would hop in my car and blare Jesus jams all the way down the winding road, down the bumpy dirt path crowded with trees and forest, where herds of deer bounded beside my rusty car making its slow way to the water. I don’t live at home anymore, but whenever I find myself back for a visit, I’m back in the car making my way to the waves.