There’s this river near my house called the Willamette. In high school, this was my “third location”. I had my house. I had my school. And everything that didn’t happen at either of those, happened at the Willamette. I rowed on this river every day, twice a day, for 7 years. Outside of practice, I walked on its beaches. I ran its paths. I swam across. In middle school, I did a study about the insects on its shores. In high school, it hosted bonfires. First as a COVID necessity (with 3 masked friends sitting around a fire in the middle of April), but then, as a traditional gathering place, where I’d throw crazy bonfires with upwards of 20 people. This was my social life.