Personal Narrative: Metea Park

The wind swept through her luscious strands of red hair, making it almost impossible to see the road ahead of her. Miles of country road before her as she sped alongside grazing livestock. The radio dial roared through the peaceful terrain from her car. Her soft pale skin glistened from the bright sunshine in the sky. The speed demon inside her could not help but accelerate as the tread on her tires deteriorated farther and farther. The fresh summer air was exhilarating, with the windows down all the way she was smiling ear to ear. She felt an immense amount of freedom though she was not alone in her 2005 blue Honda Civic. Her scruffy, black, English springer spaniel puppy accompanied her in the passenger seat as if he too was human. The two of them could not wait to arrive at their desired destination of Metea Park. Every Sunday evening in the spring, they would travel the 30-minute drive for just an hour or two of freedom. She placed her Civic in between the two bright yellow lines upon arriving at their happy place. When the small car unlocked its doors the spaniel went berserk in the front seat. Tightly gripping the blue fabric leash, that perfectly coordinated with his collar, she careful stepped onto the sweltering black asphalt. She cherished this time away from the world as the 45-pound puppy
Returning to the passenger seat, her puppy dog’s tongue fell down over the edge of his mouth just as he began to establish his contentment once again. The worn out friends drove by the park’s crystal blue pond. The snow white swans glided graciously through the steady movement of the water. The tranquil touch of Metea park was left behind in their tire tracks, along with the adventures and freedom that came with it. Sunday evenings will always have a significant place in their hearts, holding a vast importance in their