![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeGOyq4rSJcON3uq0FPxHZ2CKa_7PvhHBoQNZObbTjhzF4C0c7ZOnM7nB13TOIjjQJ8YtoWvtgFcUe-esjet_1laPNMjYiKOuq4xFsmMygKP4VwaioWO7XA9AvvtN2nDg6eKwu4zK_kQ/s200/20150830_142636%25257E2.jpg)
This is me at Lovitt's Point, a half-acre park at the edge of the Scarborough Bluffs donated by Mr. and Mrs. Lovitt after their 1940's post-WWII home "went over." I had no idea these trees were so little back then. The Point, as it came to be known, was my forest, my solace, my destination. This was the wilderness I could access on my own, even when as a youngling, my freedom to wander was limited. The Point was my static datum point from which I observed the changes and cycles of nature. It was the place from which I developed and processed my ever-changing self-realization. It remains the place to which I am forever connected as the geographic point on the surface of our Mother Earth from which my own mother opened her doorway of life for the first time, and allowed me a safe passage here to the realm of the living.
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This week, though, we saw the bald eagle again, fishing at the restored Miramar Pinelands Lake. Now this is my forest. My wilderness. My place to walk and process and plan the next phases of my life. This beautifully restored ecosystem, billions of years in the making, so I could walk through and introduce my little one to his first memorable glimpse of our country's emblem and protector.
Seasons and cycles are ever changing, but some things will always remain.
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