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"My IslandHome"
Word Count: 1175
EnglishCompositionI 101
8:00 a.m.on T/R
Dr. Doug Davis
"Don't follow too closely!" my dad ordered Aunt
Shelly. On our trip out to Oklahoma,we
had ridden with her and had quickly picked up on her habit of tailgating. She laughednow,
dismissingher little brother's commandas foolishness.
Aunt Shelly, MomoNana (my paternalgrandmother),my little brother Bryson, and I were
headingto St. Simon's Island offthe coast of Georgia. I had never beenthere before, and the
prospectof seeinga new environmentthrilled me. Unfortunately, my excitementonly servedto
lengthenthe journey down there-at least in my mind. Hours and minutesdraggedon, and the
miles stretchedinto eternity. But finally, palm trees replacedpines,and the coastlineappeared.
We had arrived!
Our endurancehad certainlypaid off. The islandwas magnificent.Large oaks drapedwith
Spanishmoss lined the streets,providing adequateshadefor bikers and runners.Palm trees
surroundedthe quaint, Spanish-styledhouses,and a perfectly manicuredlawn stretchedacross
the length of the island.Hot, humid air embracedthe secludedparadise.
Tying in nicely with the islandon which it stood, our condo was small, but comfortable.
Bryson and I claimedthe room containingtwo twin bedsand a T.V. Never beforehad I seen
suchvariety in a house.Our bedroom, like all the other rooms, was furnishedwith crisp white
wicker. But our walls were a deep shadeof lavender,contrastingbeautifully with the light green
and yellow of the wallpaperborder. White shuddersframed our small window, adding to the
room's charm. Color schemesof the entire home rangedfrom the palestpink to the richest blue.
Boasting an atmosphereof cheerfulness,the condo complimentedits paradisiacalabode.
"H*y, Ammie, did you seethe swimming pool?'Bryson askedme as I unpackedmy
suitcase."I can't wait to go there. In fact, I think I'll go there now."
"Hold on one minute, Buddy," I replied. "We have somethings to do first. After we're
finished,we can go."
During the courseof that afternoon,we becameacquaintedwith our condo, the tenniscourts,
and the swimmingpool. The following morning we were up with the sun, ready to explore the
rest of the island.I was so glad we'd brought our bikes. Along the sun-dappledsidewalk,we
rode for a couple of hours. To be perfectly honest,I was glad we stoppedwhen we did. The sun's
rays were intensifying,tuming my anns to a dark shadeof pink.
"Well, I supposeit is too hot to be doing outdoor activities," Mom said."What should we
do now?"
"We could go seethe village," I suggested.
My suggestionproved to be a good one. After a ten minute drive through the easternside of
St. Simon's, quaint shopsand restaurantsappeared.In addition to the shopsand eateriesthat
framedthe streets,a playgroundstood in the middle of the square,and a beautiful lighthouserose
abovethe sapphiresky. The pier, protruding from the island,was embracedby the vast Atlantic.
At first glanceI knew the village would be my favorite featureof the island.
Throughout the afternoonwe shopped,ate at the local restaurants,and playedminiature golf
As eveningapproached,a gentle breezeset in, cooling the air. The oaks and palrnsdancedin
rfuthm to the oceanwind. Feelinga suddenburst of energy,I ran to the pier, where fishermtn
had cast their lines into the water. Resting my handson the rail, I savoredthe taste of the salty
air. Never before had I felt so happy and content. The island,separateand distant from the rest of
the world, was the perfect havenfor me. I had no problemsor worries. I was completelyfree,
much like the wind which swept over the sea.
My feelingsof freedom and securitycontinuedduring the week. We swam, playedtennis,ate
at the island's diners,and toured the lighthouse.In addition to enjoying St. Simon's Island, we
also had the opportunity to visit Jekel Island's historical homes,including those that had been
owned by the Rockefellerand Vanderbilt households.After exploring its history, we went to the
water themepark-a highlight for Bryson. As he and I approachedone slide, I saidi "We could go
down backwards."
Bryson pausedand creasedhis eyebrow, as he alwaysdoes when facedwith a decision."I
don't think so," he responded.
However, as we preparedto get into the two-seaterfloat, he exclaimedt"I changedmy mind.
Let's go backwards!"
I think he madea wise decision.While plunging downward, I laughedso hard I thought I'd
"Yeah, Baby!"
drown, and Bryson screamed.;
After our first backwardsdrop, Bryson, his countenancebeamingwith enthusiasm,urgedl "
Let's do that again!"
That was one of the best daysof our trip. I felt so unattached,like a bird soaringbeyondthe
skyline, looking intently towards the horizon.
Unlike the day at JekelIsland, the day before we were due to go home was quite sobering.
Mom and I took a trolley tour of the entire islandof St. Simon's. The trolley was stationedin the
middle of the village, next to the playground.Though it was only mid-morning, the sun's heat
was intense,causingmy hair to be plasteredto my forehead.However, despitethe hot
conditions,our ride was both informative and enjoyable.We visited many rdiffbr.ent
historical
sites,but the one which impressedme most was the land on which the Battle of Bloody Marsh
was fought. Dubbed the Battle of Bloody Marsh due to the massiveSpanishbloodshed,it was
amazingto think that JamesOglethorpeand his troops had fought on the sameislandwhere we
now stood. The secludedfield was so tranquil and inviting. The only soundto be detectedwas
the rustling of leaves.Yet, over two hundredyearsago, the sound of musketsand war drums
reigned.The marshran red with Spanishblood, and the smell of death dominatedthe air. Today
the islandwas a paradise,but centuriesago it was not.
Fortunately,the eveningwas more uplifting. After a nice dinner and competitive gameof
miniature go$ we took our final walk on the pier. The week had passedfar too quickly for me. I
gazedat the majesticocean,the crying gulls, and the lighthousewhose beamilluminateda
stretch of water. High tide was coming, and the restlesswaves crashedagainstthe rocks. This is
where my freedom is, I thought. It will be waiting for me when I return. Breathing in the salt air I
had come to cherish,I silently said goodbyeto the island.Walking from the pier, a gust of wind
envelopedme. It was entreatingme to look back once more. But I knew I didn't needto. I had
found my home, and my home was where my heart would remain.
"I'll come back you," I promised
to
the island."And when I do, I know you'll be waiting for
mg.o'