Essay

It’s November, and music and words have long become a refuge for me. They always held open arms for me, but now more so than ever. Every minute without music feels like I am being strangled. My violin has sprouted both a piano and a guitar.

The concept of death is frightening to me but not in the way that it is for most people and it may make me sound callous or just cold, but I’m not scared of death itself exactly.

I take Saturday mornings with the smell of fresh bread and the sound of the rain hitting my roof. I weave together hot cocoa after long ski days and the gentle Touch of my mother after crashing my bike.

I take Saturday mornings with the smell of fresh bread and the sound of the rain hitting my roof. I weave together hot cocoa after long ski days and the gentle Touch of my mother after crashing my bike.

There are so many things in my life that I am grateful for. Place to live, food, family, and friends are just a few things that I am grateful for.

Dear Reader, 

Why I Want to be an Automaton
    I am an observer, a teen, and an original thinker. To an automaton, I am a threat to assimilation. I am an ordinary person of the middle class with curiosity.

Space doesn’t have oceans, mountains, and roads. So if it is the last day on earth I would spend it going to some of my favorite places or places that aren’t in space. The first thing I would do is go and pick up my friends.

I am living in chittenden county. 
Last month I could say "I'm proud to live here, where we are handling the virus appropriately." 
And now I say, "What? What happened?" 

but I know what happened. 

 The sound of the creek gets softer as the trees get shorter and we near the peak of the mountain. The brusk fall air makes my body temperature stay low unlike the long, hot hikes of midsummer.

          Summer is over and fall is upon us. Fall in Vermont is filled with pumpkins carved into shapes of cats, witches, and faces, corn mazes that take all day to travel through.