I found it many a year ago. A paradise, no more than two miles from my home of the last seventeen years, hidden amidst dense cornfields and untamed forest. There lay the most pristine portrait of nature I have ever beholden. I’ve marveled at the Niagara Falls, tiptoed along the Rainbow Beach in Australia, snorkeled upon the Great Barrier Reef, and camped on the Australian Outback, but no site I’ve seen matches the calm perfection Mother Nature fabricated in my own backyard. As I meandered upon a deer-trail exploring new terrain, I caught faint glimpses of reflected sunlight dancing between gaps in the feral undergrowth to my right. I longed to observe the treasure tantalizing me from behind the arboreal fence that guarding the mystery within. Ahead lay a clearing; I charged for it. As I round the corner where the last bush lay in obstruction of my path, I slid to a halt. A bed of needles brillantly rusted with age, skirted an icy blue pond sparkling in the rays of life-giving photons from the golden orb overhead. A grove of strong, verdant pines circled this majestic pool of nature’s teardrops guarding its steep banks. I crept to the small peninsula thrusting into the very heart of the water’s serene center. The stoic water reflected my joyfilled visage back at me. On that peninsula I sat entranced by Purity herself. In awe of her beauty still unsoiled by man; I had discovered one of her last havens from sprawl. This spec on the surface of our world was our secret to share, guard, and cherish. Peacefully, I would loiter there observing Purity in whole. She was my poetic inspiration, my “Fortress of Solitude,” and my tangible repose. I would go to her to escape, always alone, with an idle body and a kinetic mind-- free to simmer in my thoughts and turn the world end over end like a coin in hand. However, like so many of Purity’s sanctuaries before, it will one day serve as another defenseless victim to suburban sprawl. Expansion in my neighborhood is already in progress, and the grapevine has produced dire news regarding my pristine haven. But, before she is tainted by man and destroyed in the name of progress, I would like to share the secret Purity and I have shared for so long with that special someone. My family members have been there, as well as, some of my friends and neighbors, but none of them can comprehend the genuine aura of peace and beauty that surrounds that pond. I would to one day be able to share my haven with my sweetheart. To show her my haven, the very place that cleanses my life and feeds my soul. She may not be able to appreciate Purity’s splendor as do I, but to be able to share my most precious sanctuary would be reward enough, so that she might have even the faintest of glimpses into my consciousness and understand a greater part of the spirit that dwells in me. In the spring we could picnic there, sponsored by mere pocket change, because companionship in Purity’s preserve could be no greater luxury. Upon the peninsula shaded by the majestic pines, a bed of needles would provide cushion under my old flannel blanket. The cool waters drawn from the runoff of winter’s thaw would chill refreshments and we could snack on fine peanut butter and jelly cuisine. Laying back in arm in arm we could marvel at the clear sky above and the wild flower meadow on the far shore beyond. One last afternoon in paradise, to introduce my companion to the pond that helped shape me and will forever be a refuge in my soul, before it is lost to this earthly plane.