Being a "military brat" meant that I lived in many homes across the world. Some of those homes I will never get to see again; others I will hopefully get to revisit as time goes by. Recently I was able to return to the town where I lived as a fifth grader. I had not been there in 40 years! It was a marvelous trip down memory lane, a path I enjoy wandering down as often as I can.
When I was in fifth grade my family lived in Woodbridge, Virginia, a suburb of Washington, DC. My dad worked at the White House. I was a girl scout. I discovered Nancy Drew. I loved to roller skate. My love of writing first began. I have many other memories of that short year, or second time to live in Virginia, but the most vivid has always been The Woods!
We lived in on a cul de sac which was bordered on two sides by the most amazing woods a child could imagine. There were tall deciduous trees, huge smooth boulder-type rocks, and a creek running right through the center of it all. I spent as much time in those woods as I possibly could. (This was back when children could play for hours outside without the threat of predators or kidnappers.) I had my own rock where I sat to dream and right in my brand new diary.
In addition to the woods, my most vivid memory of the neighborhood was a small park at the top of a hill. The park was situated on the edge of a black-tarred sidewalk which led straight down the hill, ending in a sharp curve at the bottom. For children in that neighborhood, roller skating down that hill was the epitome of bravery and skill. I had attained the notoriety of becoming the first and fastest to roll down that hill on my white leather, booted, metal-wheeled roller skates! The memory continues to lurk in my brain all these 40 years later.
This past Thanksgiving week end as I wove my way into my old neighborhood, my heart palpated with the chance of seeing that hill and those woods again. I counseled myself strongly on the very real possibility that both would have disappeared with the passage of time and the march of progress. I parked and continued my discoveries on foot. As I took a corner around one of the town homes, my breath caught in my throat... I was facing the hill with the playground at the top, the hill with the memorable black-top trail climbing right in front of me!
I slowly made my way behind some of the homes and down another hill, straight into the most gorgeous woods my memory could conjure up. The woods were complete and untouched. I was immediately assaulted by smells that I had not experienced in 40 years. It is said that odors bring about the most memories, and that is so true. I have been in many forests since spending time in this particular wooded area of Virginia but have never smelled that exact fragrance. It was amazing and somehow sent me straight back to my life as an 11 year old girl caught up in the romance of time alone in the woods with only an imagination and a diary to keep her company. I even found my own special rock!
Needless to say, I enjoyed my short sojourn into my past. As I left the woods, I was literally smiling to myself. I continued on in my car, visiting my old school and the shopping center I used to ride my bike to. I was filled with nostalgia and the peace that only comes with memories happily revisited.
As a side note, I also visited the small town of Occaquan which was just across the river from my old neighborhood. Occaquan is a quaint riverside village with lovely shops and restaurants. I highly recommend it if you find yourself in the area!
Occoquan Virginia
