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The Resting Place Essay

Sometimes I like to hang out with dead people. I actually tend to spend a lot of time in the deepest corner of an ancient burial ground not far from my house. It isnt actually the rotting bones and haunted gravestones that attracts me to this particular cemetery; its the beautiful beach about a mile beyond the skeletons. Living in Marshfield, Massachusetts, there are at least four beaches I am able to go to to relax.

However, I typically choose the one behind a cemetery, which is far from what many people would consider a standard beach. It is discretely located across the street from the entrance to my neighborhood, and there is a sign pointing the way to Couch Cemetery. There is no mention on the sign of a beach, so it wasnt until recently that I learned of the unpopulated Couch Beach that is located beyond the tombstones and gravestones, and I am so thankful that it was brought to my attention.

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Although I have had some terrifying, and what only I consider potentially life threatening, occurrences at Couch (like the time I was persuaded by my boyfriend, who finds comic relief through my nightmare, to tip-toe through the zombie-infested and ferocious frog-filled woods at ten oclock at night), I always tend to come to a serene state of mind when I am there. Maybe it is the peaceful silence of the open woods leading to the beach, or the beauty of the suns rays shining on the stillness of the water. Maybe its not even the scenery at all.

It could be the amusing memory of the first time I explored Couch and crossed paths with a woman walking her cat in a baby stroller, or the time a young Australian man chatted with my friend as if they had known each other for years, although she had no idea who he was. Couch may be my secret paradise because I can always go there and relive the moment I was told the three little words every 17 year-old girl dies to hear; I can admire the heart and initial-engraved trees where other girls experienced the same butterflies I felt that day. What used to be a place that haunted me is now where I seek solace.

For me, the terrifyingly beautiful Couch Beach is my comfortable place. I can experience all of my beloved memories over and over again while ridding my mind of any outside worries. I can feel a sense of independence from reality while being completely alone with nature. I can be my true self and run from frogs and dance in the water as the hurried world goes on without me. I can sometimes be a scaredy- cat, but Im not afraid to tread through an eerie cemetery because I know pure happiness is waiting for me on the other side. What I love most about Couch Cemetery is that when I am there I actually feel brave.

I had to muster a lot of courage to slink past those tilted, old gravestones that first night, and that travail encourages me to face my fears in all areas of my life. I am heading to college next fall, and as much as I love my hometown, I am looking forward to traveling away and experiencing a life in new surroundings. I know I can, because I know that even though new ventures can be unnerving and intimidating, as long as I continue to seek the beauty and quietude I am certain I will find somewhere further along the path, I will face and conquer my fears, and I will be just fine.

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The Resting Place Essay
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Sometimes I like to hang out with dead people. I actually tend to spend a lot of time in the deepest corner of an ancient burial ground not far from my house. It isnt actually the rotting bones and haunted gravestones that attracts me to this particular cemetery; its the beautiful beach about a mile beyond the skeletons. Living in Marshfield, Massachusetts, there are at least four beaches I am able to go to to relax. However, I typically choose the one behind a cemetery, which is far from wha
2018-08-15 15:46:40
The Resting Place Essay
$ 13.900 2018-12-31
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