I woke up just a few minutes ago with music in my head and a heart heavy with whatever it gets heavy with and found myself once again on the Low Rocks, plumbing the depths. When you’re young and your hormones rage, you find sanctuaries—we all do— and my favorite was the Low Rocks, a slight rock shelf which skirted the Santiam River on the northern edges of good ol’ Sweet Home, Oregon, a town which I hold dear to my heart and which will always be home.