“They say home is where the heart is, but my heart is, wild and free…” - Home by Passenger All my life I was told home is where you live, where you rest your head. But when I'm standing on that little yellow house's deck, I feel I'm where I'm supposed to be. With the ocean mist in my face and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks; that is where I found my courage. My dad had talked about where there were broken up rocks we could climb on and how the water was bright blue in the small bay where the boats docked not too far away. I was scared though. I don't know why, maybe it was the fear of the unknown in the water or of what I couldn't see. My dad had already had a solution. We went down to the surf shop and rented a few wetsuits and I already had ten times the confidence as before. We went back to our little yellow house to get our bikes and set off to go down to the jetty. We road past endless amounts of sea and sand, one by one the number of the lifeguard towers numbers got higher and the number of people got lower. The only sounds were of bike tires going over the sand on the concrete and waves crashing against the shore. We quickly arrived to the crystal blue waters with the sun shining down creating a pearl like glisten. We parked our bikes and started climbing down the warm rocks. The fear of what hid beneath the water came into my mind. The feeling of the dark seaweed wrapping around me sent a shiver down my spine. Then I saw the crystal blue water, the bright colors of what I wanted to see, my dad was already in the water waiting for me. So I stood, closed my eyes and took a leap of faith.