In Class 8/25

Last summer my entire extended family and I went to Tennessee for a week. The huge, three story log cabin was the most beautiful piece of architecture I had seen up to that point in my life. The cabin was a part of a whole community of cabins similar in look, but differing in size and structure. The air outside smelled like nature. You could smell the dirt and wet grass and feel the coolness of it rush into your nose. Inside the cabin, it smelled like finished wood; not a strong smell, but a pleasant sort of home-away-from home type of smell. The inside of the cabin was quiet. Few sounds escaped the rooms. But outside, the sounds of families playing together, kids jumping in the pool at the bottom of the hill, and men chatting on the porches sipping cans of beer, filled the air. It was a welcome place.

I did not feel much of a culture shock upon arriving to Tennessee. I live in the secluded countryside back home, so this peaceful, wooded place was just the right fit for me. I had always dreamed about living in a cabin like the one we stayed in that week, so there was almost a familiarity about the place because of how I had always pictured myself in a cabin.