Place Where You Live:

Freeport, Maine

The dusty pink sunset splashes over the farm. I pedal my bike on the little camp road and slow down to see the sunset. The campfires light up all the campsites. I peer through the trees to look at the water. Gulls dance across the painted sunset . I jump off my bike and run to the small mowed field by the cows. I lay in the damp summer grass. As I gaze at the sunset I plead to Mother Earth silently, “Let me stay here and soak up my last bit of summer, let me live in this moment forever.” I leave this moment to get my parents so they can share this with me. As I pedal back to our camp I see the sunset fade. When my parents and I return on foot the sunset has tucked itself away behind Maine’s beautiful mountains.

Recompense Shore and Campground has been a part of my summers for most of my life. We have the same campsite almost every year; our site is right by the water and has a private path onto the seaweed covered rocks. All we bring is a couple tents, a small Coleman stove and firewood. The rustic farm and campground never changes. The preserved waters and woods glisten in the sunlight and sparkle by the moon, but the best part is sitting by the water with a belly full of food and watching the sunset. We have been through sunshine, rain and hurricanes, but year after year it’s beautiful no matter the weather. Going to the beach almost every day, getting up early to go for a run, and sitting by the campfire till midnight, it never gets old.

Small waves roll, splashing at my feet. I run down the rocks, my bare feet scratching against the rough rocks and sad broken seashells. The green ocean water stretches far past where I can see. The water sparkles under the sun like a thousand diamonds. My heart’s pounding. My brain isn’t thinking. I run to the tip of the rocks, my hand dips into the cool water. I feel the water seep between my toes. I spread my arms out, trying to catch the wind. I close my eyes and fly.

I feel like I could picture this place even if I was blind, or hear the Gulls and the rustling trees even if I was deaf. Every year I come back to this place changed, older, wiser, but yet it recognizes me just the same. There will come a time when I stop coming here. I’ll be grown up, have a job and be too caught up in my own life to think about Recompense. It will be here waiting for me when I return. The feeling that I get when our car rolls across the old camp bridge and I smell the salt air. These memories are worth too much to forget about.