Dear golf, it’s me again… disappointed after yet another horrific session at the range.

Countless times I have given you my all, and in return I get nothing but blisters on my hands and a sore back (not to mention the pit of defeat in my stomach after slicing most of my shots into the trees). I can still hear the whistle of the many golf balls I’ve lost in lakes, ponds, rivers, and various other hazards.

On the other hand, golf…I love you. Nothing can compare to the feeling when we meet for the first time after a long hiatus— we both know I can’t stay mad at you for long. You provide the most beautiful landscapes, covered in a fresh coat of morning dew, painted like a storybook picture. I cherish the moments you have given me, watching professionals create a sense of poetry in motion. You make me happy. Pure bliss encompasses me when I hit that solid shot once in a blue moon— the sound of the club is music to my ears.

Through both thick and thin, I will still muster up the strength to throw my bag back over my shoulder and take part in this dance one more time.

Be well, Auburn.

Photography: Auburn Golf Club and Moore’s Mill Golf Club