As summer has graciously turned to fall with winter not too far in the future, I must stop and think about what the earlier seasons have brought and not expect what the new ones will bring.

Around three months ago, I left home for the first time in my life. Moved out and away, my lifelong dream of getting out of that net of a place finally came true. While I hold a strong disdain for the town of Red Bluff, Calif., there are things I miss and I love.

As fall has arrived and I look around at my new home, the same effect is not there. Remembering what the front lawn would look like scattered in leaves, the shadows and that breeze rain clouds would bring.

Things have changed and while they will take some getting used to, I like the new. Change is good as long as I keep myself and where I’m from as a focal point.

I remember that in my small hometown I never really fit in nor did I want to fit in. I always had a sense that I didn’t belong. Growing up, I was a bit of an outcast, unpopular by the standards of what made someone popular.

I got used to it and began to realize that I didn’t want to be liked by many and that being loved by a few was near perfect. Going about my daily life I knew that one day I would get my chance to venture off, be me in a new place. At that time, I was me in the old place.

Taking a look into my memories, I see that there were some pretty good times. My first year of college, my best friend and I would get up for our 7 a.m. class then afterward head over to Wal-Mart to gander at the Christmas decorations people would soon be hanging.

The lake, going swimming and camping with grandparents in the town of Mineral, watching the cars and eating fruit salad with the other grandparents.

My parents, divorced and getting along, together raised me and my sister to be close. Barnes and Noble bookstores, San Francisco, football games, and the coast, I’ll remember.

Of course there are bad memories, ones that I wish not to dwell on, but only to learn and move on completely from.

Life is a blur of passing memories. I suppose it means to live in the present moment and remember the past. The important ones will jump out while the ones that exist as a figment will filter on and be lost. I will not remember everyone I ever meet or every moment that passes my way.

I will remember the ones that mean something or who have had an astounding effect in my life-both simple and great. The only teacher who ever took notice or at this very moment, sitting and writing this story, I’ll remember.

I know now that what I left behind are family and friends, my roots and my past, my true home. My future does not rest there. As a fond memory, I will always return and never forget where it is that I came from. My future lies only where I allow it to go. My memories keep me informed of where I have been and what I have learned, but will never keep me from living for more.