The discovery happened several weeks after we moved into the new house. The whole place was really remote, and as big as the house was, and as much land as we had, I didn't like it.
I would often complain to my mother that I was not happy about moving here. Obviously complaining wouldn't move us away, but it was nice to be honest about how I felt, and I'm pretty sure that mother was sure how much I hated it.
After a really heated argument one day, however, I couldn't stand the close quarters and the remoteness any more.
I walked out the front door and down the dusty track to the field. From there I walked over several more. I must have been walking over deserted fields for about twenty minutes, when I noticed the trees. Right in the middle of the field there was a little group of trees, surrounded by long grass.
I made my way over, and was amazed to find such a beautiful little piece of heaven so close to hell.
The trees were low enough that I could climb up, and as I swiftly scaled the tallest tree - which granted wasn't that high, but still - I looked out upon the surrounding landscape. It was overwhelming.
The sheer loneliness struck me like a boxer's punch - I really had moved away from everything, but I had been rewarded with my own little sanctuary. A home away from home. An escape route for when things were too difficult.
I had found paradise.