Hip·po·crene
( Hip · po · crene | \hi-pə-krē-nē )
noun, literary
1. used to refer to poetic or literary inspiration
2. Greek Mythology — a fountain on Mount Helicon, sacred to the Muses: its waters inspire poets
HIPPOCRENE
2023-2024
The Arts & Literary Magazine of Avon Old Farms School
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Derrick Li '24
Ethan Renvyle '25
Zijian "Kenneth" Wang '24
Ethan Renvyle '25
Ethan Renvyle '25
Dominik Sedlak-Braude '25
Wonjae Cho '25
Chenfeng "Allen" Yan '25
Muhan "Mike" Yan '25
Seokjune "Bryan" Lee '24
Edward Zane III '25
Wesley Grosner '25
Christopher Bowers '24
Yuxuan "Sean" Yang '24
Christopher Bowers '24
Christopher Bowers '24
Henry Thornton '24
Wonjae Cho '25
Andrew Pitts '24
Derrick Li '24
Bennett Della Valle '24
Bennett Della Valle '24
Maxwell Diamond '24
Blake Smith '24
Christopher Bowers '24
Christopher Bowers '24
Joel Taylor '24
Hayden Hastings '24
Man in the Glass, oil on canvas
Intruding Thoughts, poem
Miao, mixed media
Stargazing, poem
Respite, poem
Starry Night, photograhy
Remnant, sculpture
Protected, photography
The Message, essay
Ode to a Desk, poem
The Frost, poem
Wintertime at Boarding School, essay
Moss in Snow, photography
Long Time Ago, poem
Shattered, photography
Men on Timber, photography
Martha, essay
Game Bird, sculpture
Nature, essay
At the River's Edge, oil on canvas
Beaver Pond, photography
Infidels, photography
College Essay
Nature, essay
Smile, photography
Who's There?, photography
Disillusioned, photography
Starry
HIPPOCRENE
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Charles May '25
Charles May '25
Edward Lister '25
Lawson Byrnes '25
Christopher Bowers '24
Wyatt Scarritt '25
Jacob Baumoel '24
Dominik Sedlak-Braude '25
James Odyniec '25
Guyhong "Colin" Lee '24
Owen Callaghan '25
Taiyo Minami '24
Andrés Calderón Suárez '27
Ryan Indelicato '24
Derrick Li '24
Joaquín Acuña Girault '24
Nicholas Bilbao '25
Joel Taylor '24
Logan Glass '25
Christopher Bowers '24
Chenfeng "Allen" Yan '25
Dylan Rutledge '24
Christopher Bowers '24
Arseniy Gurevich '24
Dominik Sedlak-Braude '25
Dominik Sedlak-Braude '25
Owen Callaghan '25
Christopher Bowers '24
Northern Stillness, poem
Deep Green of Summer, poem
Lonely, poem
Parishing on the Swing, photography
Knowledge, photography
The Heart vs The Brain, essay
Nature, essay
Sunset Ray Over the Bay, photography
Warmth of Snow, essay
Chapel with Snow, photography
Helping Hands, mixed media
Chapel Talk, essay
Antono, poem
Reflections on the Refectory, photography
Deconstructed, oil on canvas
DEN−JFK, poem
The Observer, poem
See-Through, photography
Oceans Beauty Blue, poem
Lighthouse, photography
Green Leaf, photography
A Rewarding Hike, short story
Campus Courtyard, photography
Orchestra of Silence, poem
Dock, photography
A Journey Beyond, short story
The Clock Winds Down, poem
Lightup, photography
Intruding Thoughts
When we dream, when we wake
We dream of things that we might make Rise in morning, fall to bed Ideas flood on Through my head
Since the moment of our birth we are told to prove our worth.
Ask who's to judge who wins or loses, why are they the one that chooses? Let your mind Wander free
Take your time to simply be.
KENNETH WANG '24
Stargazing
Ethan Renvyle '25
In the night, I wonder 'why?' I ask my question to the sky.
I n response, I get no answer, Just a twinkle from shining Cancer. I think to myself of my vices, I take advice from radiant Pisces. I question all that came before us, Though I take solace from glowing Taurus. What truly separates you or I? Perhaps less than Gemini.
in the end, I got no answered, Just stars above, like performing dancers.
Respite
Ethan Renvyle '25
In one hand, pain, The other, rest. Both things mundane, Maybe for the best.
Though we may not be here long, we chose the way we spend our stay. To compose a wonderful song, Or find a path from which to stray.
This world is cruel, But kind all the same. We may eat gruel, Or the finest crème.
So, do not worry what is ordained, Live you life how you may. Every dawn is a chance regained, Tomorrow is another day.
"As he went soullessly into the shower, his heart was filled with guilt for his crimes that caused him to tumble from paradise to hell"
CHENFENG
The Message Yan 'Mike' Muhan '25
The gray, cold morning of the new year had descended upon southern New England, and a flake of snow, a true moment of winter, had evoked the remainder of the wintertime feelings long lost in people’s hearts. Two young gentlemen were busy moving their suitcases to their boarding house, with the annoying sounds of scratching between the plastic case and the cement floor constantly orchestrating, like the breath of a demon, suggesting their stepping towards the end.
It’s a hectic and exhausting day for both of them. They had just survived a grueling twenty-hour cross-continent journey, suffered the endless noise of Rolls-Royce aircraft engines, and collapsed like a captive trapped in a shoebox. But it was especially a horrible day for one of the gentlemen; the roughness of the lengthy travel not only hurt him but also reflected his grief at the loss of loved ones. He was only 17 years old, but he already had a lot of relationship situations that didn't seem appropriate for his age. In fact, his appearance belies his age; he wears a pair of metal-rimmed glasses, a knee-length coat, and has a slick-back hairstyle even on casual days, giving him the maturity of a professional. However, at this moment, his young drive is separating from his professionalism. This young man’s girl argued with him just before his departure, and her words stayed with him throughout the trip. He definitely adored this lady, as those words had occupied his mind completely for more than 24 hours.
When he was finally able to arrange all of his belongings, he unlocked his phone, hoping to receive a kind reply from his lover that indicated her acceptance of his continual apologies and the thawing of his present frozen heart. But the chat box is clean. The young gentleman’s eyes dimmed; it appears like there’s nothing further to look forward to in his world. As he went soullessly into the shower, his heart was filled with guilt for his crimes that caused him to tumble from paradise to hell. He can’t think how he’ll go through the year without her, even if it’s simply text messages for the most part. She is his light.
Time passes; it is now midnight. The young man is still waiting for the message, staring at the messaging app with blood-stained eyes to ensure he does not miss any fresh updates. However, perhaps it was due to exhaustion that the young man seemed to be forgetting why he was so anxious for the message and doubted whether his love for the girl was truly worthwhile. His eyes closed involuntarily, and the last thing he remembered about that night was a drop of tears flowing down his cheek.
At dawn, the long-silent chatbox finally received a response. It’s a message from the girl, but the young man didn’t even bother clicking to see what it said; his mind is as free as drifting snowflakes.
Ode to the Desk
Seokjune "Brian" Lee '24
A guardian of thought and dreams
In its wooden ones, I could see a totally new world
A silent partner
On its surface, stories unfold
I could create my own world
Marks and scratches on the desk
Describes obstacles
That I had in my tale
But the desk never gets broken
My story as well
The tale never stops
On the desk
The Frost
Edward Zane '25
Dim light winter days
Bitter nights with whipping winds
Power through the pain
Pushing through the white
Biting cold rips through your skin
White clouds fill the air
Grab up all your friends
Standing up to nature’s might United as one
Wintertime at Boarding School
Wesley Grosner '25
Old snow melts away, Springtime green grass shows itself, Say goodbye for good.
Don’t let the hands out, The Hawks Nest lights attract me, Paradise, so close.
Slow, moist day goes by, Awaiting for something warm, Pizza with Kurt and mom.
Falling flakes rain down, Ice sliding off the rooftop, Rest and relaxation.
Delicate light snow, Trudging through the empty quad, Winter snow comes late.
White fills the window, I’m longing to be outside, Outside this tight box.
Long Time Ago
-Yuxuan Yang '24 -
A long time ago we lived in concord.
A world where no missiles fly in the skies,
A world where broken windows are restored,
A world where we wake up to our loved ones.
There's somethings about the life long ago, That people can only dream of today.
Now, everyday in the world chaos grow, Smoke from explosions paints the sky gray.
Sound of falling bombs breaks the world's silence.
The orphan grabs flesh pieces of his parents,
As more ordnances are dropped by the pilots. They say it's for future adolescents,
But what benefits do we leave to them?
If all of us perish in this mayhem.
Martha Henry Thornton '24
As I drove down a wet clay path in a rough Jeep stick shift, I began to smell the sweetness of a fresh fire. As I looked at the deep blue sky, I saw the light of the scorching sun begin to fade. A thick cloud of dense smoke covered the sky. The spring burn had begun. Drive closer and hear the quail coveys evacuate their overgrown homes. Covey after covey broke through the dense smoke as they glided over the open Jeep. The crackle of dry wood and the smell of the fresh dirt from the dug-damp trenches stop the raging fire in its tracks.
The grove is wedged between the marshlands on the property's northwest side.
To find this special place, follow the traditional white picket fence until the fork in the trail. Then you must follow the tall golden grass until you smell the aroma of fresh cut grass and see the overarching canopies of the live oak trees.
When you arrive, you will first notice the giant live oak trees that dominate the landscape with their winding branches covered in a light coat of green ivy. The canopy cast a dark shadow on the pure green grass. The moss hangs freely as it swings with the wind. Countless critters call these trees home. The rabid raccoons hide from vicious
As I ventured through the scorched land two days later, I saw the first sign of life. A tiny green sprout peaked through the fertile dirt of northern Florida. It was then that I realized fire creates new life. As the days and weeks passed, I began to take notice of the small details of the plantation that I often overlooked. Later that day, I went to appreciate the live oak grove.
predators and stay for only one night. The giant smoky fox squirrels jump limb to limb. The occasional hawk who waits patiently from the highest branch, searching for his next meal.
The white-winged dove who looks for shelter while on a trek for warmer weather. The youngest hunter searches for his first tree bird, which is camouflaged. Even the chiggers call the silky smooth moss home. In the distance, you can see a peaceful pond's calm, murkier water. No one knows what happens below the surface of this pond besides the species that call it home. As you walk closer, the smell of fresh mud becomes intense. Lurking in the waters is a menacing gator waiting to pounce. It's dark compilation allows it to blend in with the tall grasses, which begin to disappear as water depth increases. When the quail starts to hobble towards the pond, the alligator's eyes narrow; their patience is unmatched as they wait for their morning snack. The Great Egret sits on the bank, searching for imperfections in the water. This majestic bird is very selective in its prey. It knows he can only swoop up the smallest fish in his shallow beak. Beneath the dark surface of the water, trophy-sized bass hide from the artificial lure of a fisherman.
The spring burn destroys and rebuilds; it creates a new beginning in the ashes of the older season. It’s Mother nature’s version of a fresh start. Destroying land with fire seems barbaric and violent but it is truly beautiful. From the chalking ashes rises new life.
This grove provides a feeling of serenity. When you enter the site, a weight will come off your shoulders. All the world's misleading messages and problems disappear. Your senses are focused on what's in front of you. The stress of the future and past fade away. Time seems to slow down as it is no longer a concern. Your only focus is on enjoying the moment and holding on to the feeling of peace that mother nature provides.
Nature Writing
Andrew Pitts '24
The lake is a staple of Minnesota. In a land with over 10,000 bodies of water scattered throughout the vast forests that cover the majority of northern Minnesota, lakes can occasionally seem like a microscopic and insignificant blue dot. However, these bodies of water and the forests around them create a tranquil and independent universe. My lake is in such a forest, the water is in the shape of an hourglass lying on its side. Looking from the dock, the left side of the lake is a bit smaller, with a large section of reeds toward the back of it which makes for a great fishing spot late at night. On the right the lake looks much bigger, a vast area of strictly water exclusively interrupted by a small “island” which only had space for several different families to picnic.
Late in the evenings, the sun sets over the trees on the west side of the lake. I can sit on the dock with my feet in the water, the temperature perfect to where my feet are neither cold nor hot. The sun sets through the clouds creating shades of orange and red so vibrant it's as if someone painted the sky. Just before the sun disappears it makes a stunning shade of purple that is reflected on the water like a mirror. Late at night the lake is pitch black, the sounds of animals are echoed with painful agitation as the pitch black horizon swallows the sun. Occasionally, a fish interrupts the stillness of the lake resulting in small circular waves coming from where the fish broke the surface. The full moon is a giant flashlight in the black nothingness. The night sky is so clear you can see every hill and valley of the moon above. The fireflies become nightlights in the darkness as they dart back and forth with astounding speed. The stars are bright with joyful ferociousness as if each glimmer was an audition for Broadway. At night the water becomes a blanket of darkness covering an unknown world. The lake is ever changing. The lake is home.
Maxwell Diamond '24 College Essay
I thought I was just endlessly sore from so many senior-spring assignments, open skates, working out, and playing baseball in the powerful May sun. We had an unusually hot spring season. I fought-off pain and discomfort; summer was just around the corner. I was having my annual eye exam when I got home, so no big deal. Projects and exams were finishing-up, and I couldn’t wait for vacation. It was going to be a summer of baseball, time with friends and family, and college apps. Then things changed.
I had been having issues with blurriness and headaches, that’s one of the reasons I was eager for the eye exam. I assumed my prescription was off, but minutes after I began the appointment with the optometrist the doctor told me I needed to see a neurologist. Immediately. I needed an MRI. That’s the first thing that changed. The radiologist read the MRI and I was referred to and admitted to the hospital within the hour. I had a brain tumor on my cerebellum that had been growing for at least three years. This news didn’t feel like real life, and surely not MY real life.
Multiple CT scans and MRIs later, I was prepped for surgery. The team of doctors needed to remove the tumor immediately to alleviate pressure and move fluid through my brain and down my spine. The tumor was causing hydrocephalus. I had no time to think. Here I was, ready to get my summer on, and now I was being prepped for brain surgery. Less than 72 hours later, from diagnosis to surgery, I was recovered enough to go home. Bad eyesight, or brain tumor? Not to be ironic, but I never saw THAT coming. That’s the second thing that changed.
The days following included plenty of post-op medical appointments. The first doctor I saw told me I was lucky to be alive. One wrong hit in a hockey game, one head first dive in a baseball game, or just days passing not knowing about the tumor, could have yielded a very different result. Reality set in as I realized what I had just been through. I was lucky to be alive. That’s a change for which I am profoundly grateful. I guess in spite of knowing what a great life I have, I never thought about NOT having it.
I thought the immensity of the entire situation hit me. While I would never want to go through this again, there were some positives to come out of this entire situation. I was able to spend extra time with my family and friends and truly appreciated those moments. I realized what is important in life and to enjoy each moment. When the doctors told me the tumor was benign, there was relief. There will be scans and doctor appointments in my future, but I have a new perspective one life and every appointment, every scan, every day is a gift and an opportunity. I know what is important to me and what truly matters. Do not get me wrong, I have always loved my family, friends and life. But, today, I will tell you, I appreciate my family, friends, doctors and life a little more. It really is all about perspective. I’m lucky to be alive. I feel better than ever. I am healthy. What more could I ask?
Nature
Blake Smith '24
There was a chance for danger. The sun was rising, peeking over the mountain range and the clouds covered parts of it. The mythical pine trees shaped as if they were skyscrapers reaching past the sky. At the top of one tree, a family of squirrels ran around the tree, chasing each other like they were playing tag. The sun was dropping as we set up the tent and the night became as real as it had ever been. The night sky rises and the stars dance in harmony across the night sky. I lay down and the dark unknown world entraps me. The crickets and cicadas flood my ears, twigs fall, and trees sway. With every sound, a flinch would shortly follow. Everything in the woods is something beyond me. The trees, the water, the animals, the air, the dirt, the life. It's always been before me and there it will remain after me.
CHRISTOPHER BOWERS '24
Starry Dreams
Hayden Hastings ’24
Underneath the stars, where long dreams take flight
Life’s gentle drama, a silent play
A world unfolds into the starry night Embracing dreams till the break of day
Into every heartbeat, a tale is spun Through the highs and lows, in the setting sun
A dance of delight when the day is done Beginning of dreams, a journey begun
So let the stars and dreams and stars entwine
Life’s quiet drama, a sweet design
A simple ode to the moments divine Nighttime dreams linger on, a lasting sign
In quiet nights, where moonlight softly gleams Streams flow on, life is an eternal dream
Charlie May '25
Northern Stillness
Black crow in the pale snow
Cold and lonely among the pine
Why not fly South?
Steep spiral stairs
Crooked crimson shingles
Architecture is beauty
What once bubbled with life
Sits dull and dormant under the frost
Awaiting resurgence
The Deep Green of Summer
Winding river flows
Glistening in the sunlight
Its banks littered with garbage
The frail rod quivers
A deep green bass tugs firmly
The downpour begins
One jagged rock at a time
The tranquil peak feels ever near
But sits far off in the distance
Edward Lister '25
Lonely
A sanctuary Its love should embrace all, Yet all are alone It bustles at night, Forged love enraptures the night, It's solitary
The couple share food, They share a home, and friends too, Why is it fake?
LAWSON BYRNES '25
CHRISTOPHER BOWERS '24
The Heart vs. The Brain
Wyatt Scarritt ’25
I don't know what I want to pursue in college. Do I stick with finance and hope to get into real-estate or do I go with a safer option? In my heart I want to bet on football, but in my brain I know that's not the right idea. Do I really want to play football in college? Am I doing this all for myself or somebody else?
I was a flag football demon, this was, of course, back when I was skinny. I started tackle football in 4th grade and that's where I built most of my relationships that are still strong today. I look back at those moments and I now realize I took them for granted, not wanting to go to practice, not wanting to run those sprints at the end of every practice.
Who am I really doing this for? I love football, everything I've done from my freshman year of highschool to now has been for football, but what if deep down I didn't really want to play football in college, what if deep down I'm only doing this for my parents? Without football, I don't know any other way I could make them proud. I'm not a scholar like my older sister, being the valedictorian for her private school class. I'm not my second oldest sister, who has everything figured out and is pursuing her dream of becoming her own boss.
What does purpose really stand for? Is it what you want or what others think you want? Being a student athlete is another level. I'm going to stick it out with football and see where it takes me. So far it's gotten me here. It's doing something for me, I guess.
Jake
Baumoel '24
Nature It's the gentle tingle on your skin, the breeze that lets your hair dance across your face, painting a perfect day in your mind. You release every emotion as you step into the tranquil, refreshing air. Camp Robin Hood. Not just a destination in the summer, but a home where friends and family can share moments that will create bonds like no other. Growing up, the aspiration to follow in the footsteps of older counselors has led to the creation of a space where inspiring kids to become the best versions of themselves is a truly rewarding feeling.
DOMINIK SEDLAK-BRAUDE '25
It's the smell crawling up your nostrils when you leave your car of the fresh pine trees scattered on the floor allowing the air to fill with a refreshing scent from the nearby trees, like nature's own air freshener. It was a simple, clean aroma that seemed to cleanse the surroundings. Breathing it in deeply, you feel instantly connected to the natural world. There's something about that place that makes you truly understand and appreciate your surroundings. As the morning comes, slowly opening your eyes, a crisp, cold breeze greets you, dancing through the window and sending a shiver down your spine. The cold morning air carried a hint of dewy grass and pine, clearing your senses and filling you with the promise of a new day. Then as the day goes on and the sun appears, tip-toeing above the mountains and clearing the cloudy sky, in this dance
of light and nature, we find the beauty of beginnings reminding us that each day holds the potential for a fresh start and new adventures. Within the cozy camp cabin, the wooden walls had a comforting, old wood smell that never gets old. Soft sunlight shone through the faded windows, casting gentle patterns on the creaky wood floor. The simple line of beds down the cabin caused it to be extremely cramped but still giving a comforting feeling. Throwing on shorts and a shirt so your body can feel comfortable for the day. Allowing your skin to breathe and feel the air.
Laughing children were gathering in the sunlit grass, dragging their bare feet along the fresh cut grass as they chased each other. Their joyful voices fill the air as they play tag, their bright smiles shining like the sun above. Some
kids sit in a circle, playing in a game of mafia, a camp classic, their carefree laughter echoing through the pine trees. When the night time arrives and the sky is clear, groups go down to the waterfront where they hang out and look at the beautiful sunset at the waterfront. The water appears clear and calm, making a soft, soothing sound as it touches the small rocks on the shore. Tall trees grow nearby, offering shade from the sun slowly climbing down from the sky. Allowing you to see the mountains in the distance mirrored on the still water. It's a tranquil spot to relax, enjoy nature, and have quiet moments by the lake. It truly is like nothing you have seen before. It's the perfect spot, as you look out on the calm water you get to experience the change in color of the sky. As the sun dies down and the color of the sky slowly changes from yellow to pink to orange it creates an illusion on the water of perfect calmness. The sky feels like it's wrapping around you giving you a hug and saying thank you for your hard days of work, and as you look up to the stars as the night depends, the stars emerge one by one, sprinkling the velvety sky with their soft, twinkling glow. Each star appears like a tiny, distant lantern, casting a gentle, silvery light upon the world below. Giving joy to the people around. And forming constellations, connecting the dots in stories told by generations. No matter who you ask that has attended Camp Robin Hood they will have the same answer by saying it truly is the best place on earth. It's a home that never gets old and a place you will remember forever.
GYUHONG "COLIN" LEE '24
Warmth of the Snow
James Odyniec '25
Cups of coco
As the fire crackles
Melts the thought of summer
The brown wood fence
Brightened with snow
Not so dark anymore
Like a soft blanket
Snow warms the ground
Each mind wandering
Taiyo Minami '24
Chapel Talk
At first, I did not understand why I felt so unfulfilled even though, looking back, I've achieved a lot of things that I dreamed of. After doing some soul searching, I figured out that there really isn't any "big" answer. Instead, I've come to realize that these bumps in the road are simply part of life. Just because a lot of things have gone right doesn't mean that sometimes it feels like everything is going wrong. No one's life is perfect, regardless of how many individuals attempt to convince you otherwise. Although enduring periods of struggle is far from enjoyable, I've discovered that adversity often yields invaluable lessons. In fact, my injury has rekindled my love of soccer and its deep significance in my life.
As I continue my senior year with newfound resilience, I'm reminded that seeking help and offering support to others are essential components of building a solid and compassionate community.
Andrés Calderón Suárez '27
ANTONO
Orphan to the revolution, In solitude he ripened, His existence an intrusion, In silence courage heightened.
From the dim nun-led halls, Whisper of stale papaya essence, Gentle face that charity befalls, Echoes of a sudden disappearance.
Aboard the boat of steam, In the company of uncertainty, Mist and mountain neared in gleam, The land of relatives, of true felicity.
RYAN INDELICATO '24
Yet the string bed of discomfort, Emerald sight of the viper, Orders followed in sweat and effort, Field approached in hymn of piper. Oh shepherd of the truth, Foreign delights under your cloak, How they seized you of your youth, Yet you hid the key under the oak.
A leap in the pursuit of knowledge, Embarked upon military service, The war broke out in foliage, Beret and rifle, marched to crisis.
The rivers flooded in crimson, Valley of the dead and their pockets, In gipsy disguise left with wisdom, Bitter recollections captured in lockets.
And to homeland’s embrace arrived, Met work with a bowed crown, In pursuit of prosperity he strived, Family’s warmth, not long to come around.
And as I look into his sage eyes, Oh quiet prophet of integrity, To not rage nor tell lies, The secret to serene tranquility.
DERRICK LI '24
Joaquin Acuña Girault '24
DEN−JFK
I think she’s from New York. That part of the city where…
Hey John! You can’t just go like that! I’ll go get the M&Ms and then we can…
I’ll just ask him, it’s easier. Excuse me sir, do you know if…
Gabriel tiene los papeles de mi mamá. A ver, aquí está lo mío y deja te paso lo…
Someone’s calling me. Can you hold this while I… It’s the same, we’ll see. So he just goes and after… It’s your turn. You should try to go to the… They’re on it?
I don’t know if I’d go to…
Stop, just stop. Just wait for a few minutes and…
"there you are"
Nicolas Bilbao '25
"I knew you wouldn't do it"
"I have consumed you"
"For you have lost all your strength"
"An alchemist is always in control, however science is uncertain."
"turn your life to gold, don't go too far or it'll blow up in your face."
"Watch your life decay, or choose to walk a different path to a better place"
JOEL TAYLOR '24
Logan Glass '25
Oceans Beauty Blue
Salty hair, toasted skin
Scorching sun rays, easy winds Broken far down
Strong northeast, no breaks Swells a’ ead, two on watch
Oceans Beauty Blue
A slight chop, cruising through Southeast bound Overboard he goes
Smoke growing, speed slowing Crew on it, failing It's a boat!
Offshore breeze, right in my face
Sitting on the shore, watching them go by Unsettled Inside
Pouring down, storm a' comin
Bright Blue
Screaming
CHRISTOPHER BOWERS '24
Dylan Rutledge ’24
A Rewarding Hike
There I was, the whipping wind threatening to blow me off the mountain, covered in dirt and grime, with a 60 lb bag on my back carrying all my possessions from the last month. Beat down and tired as hell, I stared up at the Matterhorn, glowing golden in the setting sun. There was an enormous storm just behind the great mountain, getting ready to dump enormous amounts of rain and hail on us all night. The setting sun made the storm cloud an ominous red, which made the storm seem even more powerful and destructive. It lived up to that at night, throwing hail against the side of the old stone building and cracking the few windows it had on one side.
Just before that, I was in the lead for my group. The hut was supposed to be just within sight of where we were. The sky behind us was getting darker by the second, and the wind even stronger. After one more step, my head
popped up over a rock and I saw a perfect flat little field, absolutely full of edelweiss, a little flower that only grows in the highest part of the Alps. Some people go their entire lives dreaming to see it. In the field was the stone hut where we were going to spend the night. We all ran up into the field and looked behind us. Just as we turned around the clouds broke a little bit, and the setting sun shone bright onto the great mountain across from us like a massive, orange and gold spotlight.
Thirty minutes before, our leaders told us that we had just one mile to go before we got to the mountain hut, but it was one mile straight up. The wind started picking up, and it would keep getting stronger. People started to get nervous.
On our previous stop, we were nine miles into the hike, about three-quarters of the way through to the hut. It was a gentle mountain path with a few switchbacks, but overall a smooth easy climb. We sat down and ate out one or two energy bars, a few gummy candies, used the “bathroom” and then set out on our way, all in great spirits. About 10 minutes before that I briefly turned around and took one last good look at Zermatt, the city we had camped in that night, and thought “damn I wanna go skiing here.”
That morning, just before we set off on our hike, we did our normal warm up. We all stood in a circle and did a team stretch, where we went around the circle and led one stretch each. Then we strapped our packs on and hit the trail.
Before that I had eaten a bagel with some cream cheese and beef jerky, sat down and read some of my book with a bit of time to spare. A couple of the girls had a problem with their tent so I ended up waiting for an extra 20 minutes, and in that time I finished my book and got kind of mad because there were still 3 days of the trip left. But today was the last hike. And it was supposed to be really easy.
CHRISTOPHER BOWERS '24
Arseniy Gurevich '24
Orchestra of Silence
In an orchestra of silence, a violin played, Crafting a symphony for ears that had strayed. A novel notion began to kindle, take hold, A festive gala, like carnivals of old, To summon those who hear in hues of grey.
The violinist knew his art, oh, he could feign, Could mimic melodies without touching a strain. But in this world of silence, he unfurled, A melody like none other in the world.
To them, the violin sang of love, and marvels grand, It crooned in tones of complexities they understand.
It wept for what will never be, a sorrow shared, Then soothed, proclaiming life's prospects, unimpaired.
The fiddler's serenade came to an end, and all stood.
An ovation of this magnitude was misunderstood, For the deaf savored his violin, as if they heard, From his countenance, they read his every word.
A Journey Beyond the Horizon
As the warm summer sun slowly dipped below the horizon, Jacob made his way back home. Once inside, he noticed something strange. The TV was not on and his parents were not waiting for him like they usually do. He hoped his parents didn’t realize it had gotten dark yet and would soon be joining him in watching cartoons like they always do. No one came. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed the back of his father’s camouflage uniform. He peaked over to his mom and realized her face, which was normally vibrant, was filled with sorrow and stress. He saw his father’s ear pressed against a phone, and he heard a deep voice mutter something about a PCS. Jacob ran into his bedroom as he didn’t want to be seen by his parents. Maybe he was in trouble because the neighbor had called his parents to tell them about their blueberry bush he had accidentally stepped on while chasing his friends?
Dominik Sedlak-Braude ’25
Later that night, he heard his father’s heavy footsteps approaching his bedroom. Jacob panicked and pretended to already be asleep, fearing the consequences he would face for crushing his neighbor's prized bush. As his father pushed the door open, he looked over to Jacob’s bed not wanting to wake him up and kissed Jacob’s head while turning off the light. As his father left the room, Jacob opened his eyes and his mind raced; “why would he kiss me if he’s mad at me?” This left Jacob wondering all night what the phone call was about.
The next morning everything seemed normal to Jacob. The sun was shining and as he sat at the kitchen table eating his Cheerios, his mom and dad sat at the table with him. Before even taking a bite of his cereal, his parents told him that they would have to move in the next week as his dad was ordered a permanent change of station by the military and was needed on the other side of the country. Jacob was devastated. He reminisced on all the times he, his best friend Adam, and the other neighborhood kids gathered in the park and embarked on the imaginative journey of pirates traveling and conquering the world. The thought of traveling to a foreign place no longer seemed so distant for Jacob, however this time he would be leaving all of his friends behind.
As the somber clouds shed their tears on Jacob, he shot baskets alone in front of his new house. Just then, Jacob noticed a car pull into the neighborhood and head in his direction. As he watched the wheels meticulously spin, he thought of his favorite merry-goround at the park near his old home. He remembered all the times he played there with his best friend, Adam, whom he hadn’t been able to talk to since they moved a month ago.
After his daydream ended, he noticed the car had parked in the driveway next to him. Watching the car’s every move, Jacob noticed a tall and broad man dressed in camouflage step out of the car. The man reminded Jacob of his own father. As he watched the man’s big beige boots strut to the trunk, he saw him pull a large luggage and a very familiar green teddy bear out of the trunk. Jacob dropped the basketball out of disbelief. As the basketball slowly rolled into the road and down the street, Jacob ran towards the car. He glanced back at his home and saw his mom and dad standing, smiling in the doorway. When noticing she’s been seen, Jacob’s mom yelled out “great to see you Adam, we’ve all missed you sweetie.” With a grin stretched from ear to ear, Jacob stood motionless, realizing he and his best friend had just concluded the greatest expedition of their entire lives.
Owen Callaghan '25
The Clock Winds Down
Two figures sitting One smiles while the other reads Sparking the beginning
A Jester shouts
A wall blocks me from the show One-half has passed
Goodbyes echo through The red brick courtyard It is over, just as quickly as it began
The last beginning The same faces slightly changed The same air feels different
A Jester shouts Now, a mask blocks my view The clock winds down
Warm embraces I feel through a thick hot gown Four years up in smoke
SPENCER PARISH '24
letterfromtheeditors
Throughout the 2022−2023 academic year, Avonians have dedicated themselves to crafting a remarkable edition of the Hippocrene . We extend our gratitude to you for immersing yourself in the narratives, sentiments, and journeys shared by our artists and writers within the pages of this magazine. Every one of these talented young men have demonstrated courage, vulnerability, and authenticity by submitting their work for publication, a commendable endeavor for any creative mind. Their contributions have left an indelible impact on our community, and their legacies are preserved in the history of this magazine.
The evolution of Hippocrene since its inception as a simple school-wide visual art and literary publication is clear. Now, it stands as a meticulously designed magazine showcasing the finest photography, artwork, poetry, and prose from our talented students. It has been my privilege to contribute to the curation, editing, and publication of these works during my final two years at Avon Old Farms School. Hippocrene is not just a tradition that distinguishes Avon Old Farms; it is a sanctuary where young men can nurture their creative passions.
Colophon
Academic Advisors: Samantha Jensen, Evan Sayles
Photography: artist submissions
Printing: Marketing Solutions Unlimited, West Hartford, CT
Press Run: 450 copies / 7” x 10” / 48 pgs. plus cover
Cover paper: 120# Gloss / 4 color
Text pages: 100# Gloss, perfect bound
Produced with Adobe InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop.
This experience has afforded my fellow student editors and me invaluable insight into the publication process and has served as a platform for our creative expression throughout our time at Avon. This institution is more than just a school; it is a haven of tradition, community, and brotherhood. Being a part of Hippocrene has been a special privilege, and an experience that I will cherish indefinitely. Without the contributions of fellow artists, photographers, writers, and readers, our journey as editors and curators within Hippocrene would not have been as enriching and meaningful.
Thank you.
Aspirando et Perseverando,
Joel Taylor '24, Editor-in-Chief
Editors: Spencer Parish ’24 Dominik Sedlak-Braude ’25
Layout Editors: Wesley Huynh '25 Ethan Renvyle '25
Three deadlines, all submitted online. Fonts vary throughout.
Front Cover: Derrick Li '24
Back Cover: Christopher Bowers ’24
