“Okay, so, who wants to try to go to the summit tonight?” James took a glance around. He was holding the fire stick that had been at the campsite since last summer, his tall, lean figure tilting forward into it. His pale skin gleamed with sweat from building the fire as his eyes took in all the raised hands from beneath his darkened glasses—the pair my best friend Phoebe and I always made fun of him for looking so geeky in—which he denied were actually Transitions. James and I had become fast friends when we met the summer before, and I had often found myself on the phone with him since then, talking about how much we longed for camp, interspersed with updates of his girl problems.
We were finishing up our hamburger foil packs, the evening …show more content…
Trying to get there was comparable to blindly feeling for a pebble in a grassy field. The sensation was akin to what my life in the world outside camp was: knowing where I wanted to be and what the end goal was, but still wandering about, having to search for a way to get there. At times, it was difficult to see the straightest way to my final goal of being a speech pathologist. We weaved around as the leaders in the front estimated the fastest way to get the top. Beneath the trees on the way up, I couldn’t tell where we going. I just watched Ty, the laconic, athletic counselor in front of me, observing which rocks and fallen tree trunks he stepped on. I often had to add in my own steps to account for my shorter legs, analogous to the way I tried to follow my professors’ examples and take their advice, while simultaneously trying to carve out my own …show more content…
This scene was different, set apart by the fact it was figuratively right in my backyard. The boulders we had climbed last summer looked like anthills from this far up. I could see for miles each way. Every direction showcased its own landscape. Patches of woodland and farmland were nestled in front of the further mountain ridges. What was perhaps the most stunning part was being able to see my small town—about 30 or 35 miles from camp—it was that clear.
The sun was beginning to creep downward in the sky, but it was still bright enough outside to enjoy the exquisite view. We experienced the rock towers up close, which had only ever appeared as enigmatic figures almost touching the sky, and even added one of our own to mark that we’d been there. Once I have climbed my personal mountain, I intend to leave my own mark on the field of speech pathology and relish in my surroundings. I’ll finally be able to help young children with disabilities and speech impairments live a more fulfilling
We were finishing up our hamburger foil packs, the evening …show more content…
Trying to get there was comparable to blindly feeling for a pebble in a grassy field. The sensation was akin to what my life in the world outside camp was: knowing where I wanted to be and what the end goal was, but still wandering about, having to search for a way to get there. At times, it was difficult to see the straightest way to my final goal of being a speech pathologist. We weaved around as the leaders in the front estimated the fastest way to get the top. Beneath the trees on the way up, I couldn’t tell where we going. I just watched Ty, the laconic, athletic counselor in front of me, observing which rocks and fallen tree trunks he stepped on. I often had to add in my own steps to account for my shorter legs, analogous to the way I tried to follow my professors’ examples and take their advice, while simultaneously trying to carve out my own …show more content…
This scene was different, set apart by the fact it was figuratively right in my backyard. The boulders we had climbed last summer looked like anthills from this far up. I could see for miles each way. Every direction showcased its own landscape. Patches of woodland and farmland were nestled in front of the further mountain ridges. What was perhaps the most stunning part was being able to see my small town—about 30 or 35 miles from camp—it was that clear.
The sun was beginning to creep downward in the sky, but it was still bright enough outside to enjoy the exquisite view. We experienced the rock towers up close, which had only ever appeared as enigmatic figures almost touching the sky, and even added one of our own to mark that we’d been there. Once I have climbed my personal mountain, I intend to leave my own mark on the field of speech pathology and relish in my surroundings. I’ll finally be able to help young children with disabilities and speech impairments live a more fulfilling