michigan is my fate

Vast, blue lakes, each wave that cracks is like pages getting turned in an endless little fairytale, fresh, ivory-green grass; every little breeze that goes by, you swear you can smell each blade.
Visitation to this spectacular wonderland that my childhood weaved into and out of was a must. The small, quaint little town I grew up in hardly had any socio-economic status, the houses varied from small to mid-size. My complete view of the world did not matter; most of the time because I was running through soft snow drifts that would pile knee-high in the winter (not to mention sipping the smooth, savory, hot chocolate afterwards), and riding my bike, creating my own little world, until the beautiful setting sun would bid a farewell.
This little town didn’t care much for politics; and neither did I. Someone would bring up the word “politics” and I would have to question what it was, but when they would try to explain, I obviously had better things to do.
The freedom however, was looked upon as it was a gift from the heavens and god himself. The freedom of nature was sometimes overlooked, and most of the time taken for granted; I vaguely remember my father taking me hunting for the first time, of course, I was too young to carry a handgun or a rifle of my own but the pure thrill of every moment we had to be absolutely still, and the absolute beauty of every single animal we encountered was just priceless.
Now, coming back to the place of my birth, my family, and my friends, I appreciate this past life ten-fold. All the more I remember; remembering all the warm, cool breezed summers we spent looking up at the darkened sky in July, just waiting for the next blazing spectacle of fireworks to light up the world, and remembering all the Christmases spending with family and dear friends, watching half-awake faces light up with joy. I’m not saying I totally embrace the idea of death, but I know for an unspoken fact, that Michigan is my fate.