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My Happy Place



Finlay, 13

Vast expanse of douglas fir, spreading for years on end, courses high and far weaving over each other. Distinct forest aromas mixed with foods from bags and tables. Crunching with every step, bark giving way from beneath you, accompanied by screams of joy as people fly from high to low. As I hold on for dear life, 14 meters below is the hard and solid ground, cold metal swipes my legs and pinches my fingers, now sore like needles piercing. The shear height of it all scares me to the bone but it gets my blood rushing as I fly through the air. As I land I exclaimed ”This my happy place!”

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