All Roads Lead to Home

       I was chasing solitude and happiness, so my friend and I took the wheel and trekked the eleven hours up to Moosehead Lake in Maine.  The trip was a spur of the moment idea, which took place in the few remaining weeks of our summer.  The scenery on our way up became more aesthetically pleasing as we passed Boston, and the land around us became more spacious and aromatic.  Navigating our way through Maine, using road maps and intuition, we found ourselves traveling on some dirt roads, and through towns made up of tiny populations.  I could tell already that the trip to Maine would provide the solitude my friend and I were seeking.  The picture on my blog is of Mt. Kineo on Moosehead Lake.  Upon our arrival to the lake, we took the hike up Mt. Kineo and other mountains for the next few days.  Our days were long and tiresome, but neither of us had a thought of home, or the coming semester which would bring stress, late nights, and last minute study sessions.  Ten days and six mountains later, it was time to make our trip back to Princeton, New Jersey.
       The second we saw that big green "New Jersey Welcomes You" sign, we felt our journey come to an end.  It was not depressing, but it felt as though we had paused life to escape to the mountains of Maine.  As we got closer to home, and saw the familiar businesses, landmarks, and people, we once again felt connected to the community we were a part of in Princeton.  While our trip to Maine dramatizes the joy of returning home, I feel this same sense of belonging and comfort every time I turn onto my street, Chicory Lane.  Every time I walk through the door and smell that constant aroma of my house, and the meals my parents have cooked, I feel that blanket of comfort come over me.  Home is a sanctuary that always provides one with a sense of belonging and love.  To me, the word home is not representative of the actual house, but the love and sentiment received by his or her family.