Nature

Birch Trees of the Snow

Is this a dream? I’m walking through the birch trees half covered in melting snow as the breaking of dawn comes closer and closer to the snow-covered forest. The swift breeze is blowing against my face, making my hair blow in the wind as the broken leaves get blown into the sky far away. The snow, as soft as fur, is giving me time to think about what’s going on and it feels as if nothing in the world could ever disturb this peaceful moment in time. I’m hearing the owls traveling back to their home and the sparrows just awakening and starting to sing their morning song. I feel this moment in time might be the most peaceful moment in my life. I feel as if I could see the whole forest right from where I’m standing. The sound of the stream flowing down the forest soothes my mind and makes it feel in a deep slumber. A pack of wolves howl together in perfect harmony like they had been for years, and a fox is protecting its family with its full concentration. A couple of fawns are playing together as if nothing bad could happen in the big world. A hawk is bringing food back to its infants. All these animals living together in absolute perfect harmony and all in the same snow-covered forest. I feel this moment in time might be the most peaceful moment in my life I climb up a birch tree half covered in snow and get to a high stable branch next to a sparrow’s nest. As dawn finally breaks I remember that I have been out for two hours and maybe even more. Then I realize that there is a distant voice encouraging me to keep walking deeper in the forest. I don’t know if I should, but I have a strange feeling I probably should. So I walk further into the forest and as I walk the snow crunches with every step I take because of the twigs in the soft snow. But then all of a sudden my sight is drowned in a bright light! I close my eyes so the light doesn’t hurt them and when I open my eyes again I find myself in my room. I hear my mom calling, “It’s time to go to school!” so I get out of my pajamas, put my clothes on, and get my backpack ready for school. As I make my way to school I remember the dream I had last night about walking through the snow-covered forest and how peaceful and vivid it was. Then I think about what it would be like if this was a dream. Pranav wrote this story when he was 8. Pranav Parekh, 10Santa Cruz, California Vaeya Nichols, 10Ozark, Missouri  

Double Wave

A huge wave was looming, just cresting and about ready to break It was hot, much too hot and stifling for my liking. My long-sleeved wetsuit wasn’t helping, and the zippered ankles weren’t much relief. I sighed and rolled down the window. Soooo much better. The playful wind whispered in my ear, danced around my collarbone, and lifted my hair just slightly off my back. Minutes later, the harsh crying of gulls resonated through my ears, my eyes flew open, and I drew breath tainted with the salty brine smell of the ocean. It stretched out before me, gleaming and glittering in all its glory. The more daring few of the sun’s rays reached out, just barely kissing the surface of the cresting, breaking water. I pulled another long, salty-sweet breath of air into my lungs and grinned. The aquamarine water shone bright, inviting me, calling me toward its glistening depths. The car stopped with a jolt. A heartbeat after the sound of the engine fading to a low purr and finally stopping, I shoved my door open and leapt out, bare feet skimming over the hot, hard asphalt. My friend Annie raced after me, her mom’s calls chasing us there. “Leave our bags in a good spot on the shore!” she instructed. “Got it!” was yelled back to her with one voice. I crashed down a skinny cement path, dashed through some fat green succulents, and sprinted across the burning hot beach. The water was beautifully cold, not to mention welcome. Frothing liquid swirled around my legs as I raced farther out. A huge wave was looming, just cresting and about ready to break. I shook the water out of my eyes and ran to meet it. Its top curled slightly, folding in on itself. Foam gathered on the edge, and its rumbling grew louder and louder until it was all I could hear. I filled my lungs to their bursting point and drifted down to the rough, sandy bottom. I could feel the whitewater booming over my head, and when I could have sworn the last traces of its foam had receded, I straightened my knees and broke the glassy surface. The contrast of the ice-cold water around my long legs and the pleasant warmth of the sun on my upturned face was angelic. I soaked it all in, from the sounds and noises you would expect to be associated with the ocean to the cries of families and their friends, audible all across the beach. A crashing sound was building, growing louder, but I had yet to pay attention to it. Too late. Suddenly another wave slapped me in the face and I fell over. Whoops, I muttered in my head. Pay attention next time, nutso! Caught up in the rinse cycle, I rolled head over heels many times and occasionally whacked a limb or butt against the fast-passing, sandy bottom. Great move, Sophia, I thought. Do it again. My wave seemed to be getting smaller and thinning out. It shook me in a somersault a final time and left, depositing me at Annie’s feet. She stared at me. “Hi,” I said, staring back. Annie remained quiet. Awkward silence… I trilled internally. She didn’t move. “Ya know, double waves are dead sneaky!” I said, slipping a crazy accent into my voice that guaranteed a laugh from Annie. She twitched slightly. I grinned stupidly, and a smile flickered elusively across Annie’s face. I went a step further and stuck my thumb in my eye. Annie cracked up. I joined in and laughed until my stomach hurt and rivers streamed down my cheeks. That night, as I drifted on drowsy waves of happy, I realized I had learned my lesson for that day: always watch for double waves. Sophia Catalan, 11Pacific Palisades, California Bethany Pardoe, 12Nelson, British Columbia,Canada

The Leap

I stand there, soaking up the warmth of the sun I stand at the top of the cliff, gazing down at the clear, cool green of the water. I can see the rocky bottom magnified through the river’s glassy surface. The sunlight flickers along the cliff, reflecting off the smooth water. I will myself to step closer to the edge, away from the shade of the small firs, and into the sun. I stand there, soaking up the warmth of the sun as it plays over my body. My bare feet grip the rough, gray rock; my toes curl over the edge. A lazy waft of air reaches me from the river, carrying the faint scent of long-gone salmon and the cool soothing smell of the river itself. I gaze down and see the rock dropping away toward the river below. It reaches the water and turns green and mossy as it continues its downward journey. Little eddies of pine needles gradually drift down the river toward the faint sound of the rapids. I tense my muscles, hesitate, in a moment of indecision, and then I jump. The wind whips by me, no longer a faint whisper, and I windmill my arms to stay balanced. I glimpse the water rising to meet me as I point my toes and enter the water. I sink—down to the tranquil depths—before rising slowly to the surface. My feet sting, but I have done it. I grin my silent jubilation as I swim to the cliff and begin the climb once more. Josiah Ney, 13Gold River, British Columbia,Canada Nicola Froese, 12Vancouver, British Columbia,Canada