“Camping”
by Isabella Baldwin, 7th grade The stars shine brightly in the dark sky above. I wrap my blanket tighter around me to shield me from the cold night air. Our freshly caught catfish is propped by the fire to cook. The quiet ripples on the lake catch my sister’s attention, and she ventures out on the boat to lure in more dinner. I stir the hot coals. Sparks fly into the sky to join the stars. The flames dance in the moonlight. The tree tops bend and sway under the force of the wind. I lay down on the cold, wet ground. This is where I will spend the night. This is home. My eyes flicker shut. It seems as though I have barely closed them when I once again become aware of my surroundings. I rise to my feet, curious of what might have roused me in the middle of the night. Suddenly I am aware of the harsh, cold wind tearing at the forest around me. I shudder. The flames have died down, and only the red, fiery glow of coals remain. I prod the fire with a stick, hoping to revive a flame. To my delight, it comes, but it is like a hungry child. It demands fuel, and if not satisfied, it will not show the warmth of mercy to me in return.
“Peace” by Amelia Reddy, 8th grade
I hurry into the forest to a place where the moon peeks through a gap between clusters of bushy leaves, revealing an old fallen tree. I peel strips of bark and break off small sticks. Back at the fire, the flame has gone out again, and I must stir the coals to restart it. I place the bark and sticks on top of the small flame and throw some dry leaves on top for extra encouragement. The fire leaps back to life, and I gradually place larger pieces of wood on as it grows so that it might last longer this time. Now fully awake, I don’t think I will be able to fall asleep again. So, I decide to take a walk. I bundle up and stroll to the water’s edge. The reflection of the trees in the lake looks like a smeared water-color painting. The man in the moon is smiling down at me from his throne in the sky. A bird takes flight from a nearby tree, challenging me to follow on wings of my own. Across the inky darkness of the water, the trees are a silhouette against the gray sky. I pick my way along the slippery rocks. The wind wisps my hair around my face. I have been walking for a long time when I first notice the sky turning gray. Then, a burst of colorful light seeps from behind the tree-line, daring to swallow the darkness of night. I return to camp where I sit back by the fire and prepare for a new day.
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My sister still sleeps peacefully nearby. The fire crackles happily. It is content. I am content.
“Top of the World” by Virginia Callen, 7th grade INTERSECTIONS