Beavers carved into pumpkins, holding hands in a circle before dinner, snow in October, chopping wood, walking into the woods in my pajamas at 3:30 am, spider bites in the middle of the night, driving fifteen minutes to get cell service, not contacting the outside world for over a week, living in a two room cabin with fifteen other strangers, long underwear not being enough, learning how to play the guitar, the smell of wood stoves, not having internet access when it’s cloudy, going to the bathroom in the woods daily, shooting stars every night, solo hikes around the pond at one in the morning, mice crawling over friends at night, compost, not being allowed to shower daily, smelly roommates who only shower weekly, letting it mellow when it’s yellow, sleep talking roommates, no television, no beer, no sunshine after 4:30pm, no sunshine when we wake, sunshine when it’s snowing, living on a beautiful pond, amazing people, delicious food.
The idea that I’ll soon be a teacher, that we will soon be covered by snow, freezing, that this is only the beginning, I’m going to learn how to use a chainsaw. I miss my dog, I miss my own room, Mom’s cooking, the ability to have the lights out whenever I want, to drive somewhere without someone asking where I’m going or if they can come.
Going for a run around the pond on my lunch break, listening to the snow fall in the forest, hilly bike rides in the morning to pick up my car from the bar, delicious lentil soup and Vermont cheddar cheese, learning new things about new friends, the Milky Way, night hikes to the graveyard, star tipping, pond-side naps in my sleeping bag, sketching trees, the exciting indoor bathroom at the Laundromat, knowing which tree is which, the dreadful hike to the bathhouse, learning to sign, learning to teach, sleeping with a hat on.
