The Hill

I'm from Darien, Illinois. And if you're not from another western suburb of Chicago, that name probably means nothing to you. But Darien is one of the smallest, least exciting towns in the Chicagoland area. Where nearby towns have downtown areas with restaurants and shops, our highlights include WalMart and TGI Fridays. And one of the corners of the "Four Corners Shopping Centre." But if you take out the Home Run Inn and Jo-Ann Fabrics, it is arguably the worst corner. So I've made myself clear: Darien isn't pretty. It isn't glamorous. It isn't fancy. But it's motto is "A Nice Place to Live" and there could be no truer words about my home sweet home. Darien isn't special, but my neighborhood, Smart Oaks Glen, is my favorite place in the world. More specifically the "hill" in Smart Oaks Glen.

put hill on quotes because anyone who passed through the neighborhood looking for the hill would drive right past it. I guess a better description would be an "accidental decrease in land" but there's not an exact word for that so we will stick with hill. The hill is so important to me because it carries with it some of my favorite memories of my childhood. This snowy winter weather takes me right back in time to those days spent on the hill. In our neighborhood, all the families built houses around the same time, moved in around the same, and conveniently all had kids around the same age. I always had a friend. The hill was our snow day haven. Before the recorded voice message of school cancellations even ended, all of the neighborhood kids would be dressed in gear ready to be on the hill for the day. We would squirt Capri Sun on the fresh snow, and lick up our homemade slushies. We would build ramps to sled over. Do somersaults and body rolls to race to the bottom. There was nothing we weren't capable of doing on that hill. It's is a symbol of carefree childhood freedom that we often lose sight of as the years go by. And that is why it will always hold such a special place in my heart.