The pond at my house was created before we moved into the area. My uncle put it in after he settled into his home the year I was born. It was dug in an oval shape that was about 70 yards long, 30 yards across, and 5 yards deep. During its first year of existence only about half of the pond filled up with water. When we moved in next door to my uncle, I hung out by the pond nearly every day. The north and south banks were abundantly covered in cattails which gave cover to the fish and bull frogs that lived in the pond. The banks on the east and west were covered with long grasses that were occasionally weed wacked down so you could get a closer glimpse of its beauty. Its greenish blue waters kept me from seeing down to its depths but permitted an occasional glimpse of a graceful Koi swimming by. In the spring a flurry of lily pads covered the edges of the pond. By the summer time the lily flowers would start to bloom. These delicate flowers were the focal point of the pond and whenever we sat by the pond that’s all we looked at. This was the place where I skipped rocks, caught fish, ice skated, and rowed our small boat through its gentle waters. It’s also a place that I had summer picnics with my family and hockey games in the winter. The pond was the one I turned to when I needed to get away from everything; when things just weren’t right and I needed a silent voice to hear mine. It has allowed me to grow from the experiences I have had with it and to afford me a place that I will never forget for the rest of my life.