Category: nature

homeless

mariethearistocatLeave a comment

i don’t get how everything i’ve built could be so fragile. just when you think your foundation’s set, an earthquake comes and shakes it. next a huge rainstorm. then a forest fire. or a tsunami. each disaster shakes the very thing you thought was solid. now my house is starting to crumble on contact. the walls a little less sturdy. the ground with a few cracks. but that’s why they call them natural disasters, because they have to happen. except they shouldn’t have to. you were a fire that didn’t naturally arise. you sparked something in me. i thought you were the soft ember in the fire-place, warming the whole house in a crisp, cold night. but you crept and crawled out, until the polished hardwood floor became singed beyond belief.

Photo Credit: chriscrespo.com

you burned everything. engulfed the second floor, filled with broken-down cribs and pictures lining the walls.  you exploded in the kitchen, where everything was black and it wasn’t bad cooking. you burnt the living room, even all the memories made there, the many late nights, turned to dust. you left the backyard, full of brand-new spring blooms, dead. except it wasn’t all you. my house wasn’t fireproof. my foundation wasn’t concrete, it was loose pebbles. my walls were made of rotting wood. you barely made a scratch on my already damaged surface. so, while you sleep in your warm sheets in your warm bed, I’ll be shivering under my army blanket in a foreign homeless shelter, because you destroyed my only home.

Waves

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I walk across the beach, the warm sand sifting beneath my feet. The soles of my feet burn as each sun-tinted grain touches my skin. I curl up my feet, feeling the sand between each of my toes. I take a deep breath of the salty air and look up toward the sun, closing my eyes, letting the sun’s rays wash over my skin.

(Photo Credit: atlantisbahamas.com)

I walk toward the water, the sand growing cooler and spongier under my feet. I stop, letting my feet sink into the wet sand. I relax and let my weight fall, seeing how far down I can go.

I take another step forward and dip my big toe in the water. The salt is tingly on my skin, and I ease my foot in. The water is cold, but refreshing. I take another step. I ease in to my ankles, then my knees, then my waist. I stand in the water, feeling the current course throughout my body.

I take another step. The water is up to my neck. The waves crash over me, pushing me down. I am completely submerged. I try to swim to the surface, but I can’t tell which way is up. The water is colder now, too cold, and the salt is stinging my skin. I am tossed around as the violent, churning water surrounds me. My eyes burn as I search for light.

I am caught in a vortex of water, spinning around and around, unable to break free. The waves are choppy and the water is cold – the warm, soft sand only a memory from the past. Seconds feel like minutes as I continue to struggle against the water that holds me prisoner. The once clear, gentle, welcoming water has turned dark and cold. It pulls me toward its depths, holding me tight in its grasp.

(Photo Credit: brigadewakesurfing.com)

I am starting to run out of air. Lights flicker behind my eyelids as my lungs flutter from deprivation. I can’t breathe – I am being suffocated. I toss and turn as the water pulls me down, down, deeper, deeper.

I can just make out the bottom in the distance – a faint line of dark, jagged rocks. I am afraid of striking them, and I struggle even harder. I can see a light now, but I don’t know where it’s from. It could be the surface, or the light dancing behind my eyes. The light flickers, taunting me. Still bound by the waves, I struggle to move toward it. I’m afraid to get too close. I don’t know what the light means. I don’t know if it’s coming from the surface, or if it’s something far worse – I don’t want to go the wrong way.

I am beginning to lose consciousness. My vision is going blurry, the edges are starting to go dark. The waves are enveloping me, suffocating me, before I have time to choose. I have no strength left, and no more power to fight.

I force my eyes open and struggle to remove myself from the water’s grasp. I can’t move. The waves control me, pulling me down, down, down. I hit the rocks and the light is gone. I couldn’t decide.

Cherry Blossom Season

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It is that time of the year when it starts to get warmer. The spring breeze is so nice and warm that you just want to take a nap. The flowers are blooming and the birds start to chirp. This is when I know my birthday is coming up.

Photo Credit: eskipaper.com

I have a Japanese middle name, “Sakura,” meaning cherry blossom. This name is common in Japan among people who are born in the spring. The day I was born, my grandma in Japan said that since the cherry blossoms were in bloom she would name me Sakura.

Spring is my favorite season. Although it is the season of my birthday, the reason I like spring most is because of the perfect weather. It’s hot enough to go to the pool and also if you drive a couple of hours to the mountains you can go skiing. I love to ski and I love to surf, so this season is perfect for me.

Skiing and surfing in the same month?

1998sakuraLeave a comment

Ojai Valley School is really big on outdoor education, so we have a lot of camping trips throughout the academic year. I realized that in this month of March, I’m going on two trips that are for opposite types of activities. One is the Mammoth Mountain skiing trip and the other is a beach camping trip.

I just came back from the Mammoth Mountain skiing trip. I can’t move as much as usual because my arms, legs, and neck are sore from skiing and snowboarding. I can’t even think about surfing right at this moment, but I need to in a week, so I hope I feel better by then.

This experience – to have both of these trips happen in the same month – is only possible in California. It is crazy to think the weather can be this different in one state. I’m from Japan and I know for a fact that California is bigger in area than Japan, so this blows my mind.

Mammoth Mountain
Photo Credit: Evelyn Brokering

fire and ice

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fire and ice

she was burning with fiery, passionate love

she had eyes of burnt ember and they sparked every so often

she wanted to envelop everyone in a comforting warmth

she became her kids’ campfire so she could give them a place to sing and laugh

she burned with such fierce power that she could eradicate an entire forest or anyone who dared to hurt those close to her

Photo Credit: http://www.icompositions.com

she who smiles with the brightness of the sun

she needed someone to hold her close and add sparks to her weakening flame

she needed to burn an image of herself in everyone’s minds, so she wouldn’t die out

she needed a moment that was so bright that even he remembered her warmth

he with those icy, blue eyes that could stare into you and make your heart stop

he who gave his family the cold shoulder and now has no one

he who sleeps in an empty bed in an empty studio apartment, listening to the city life pass by him

he who makes strangers shiver when they so much as glance his way

he always froze up when near her, his face getting paler with every step she took toward him

he who could never get himself out of his dark, barren mind long enough to let himself thaw out

he was so cold that even she couldn’t melt away his icy exterior

so they were stuck in an eternal loop, the same moments, waiting and longing for a connection to bring them out of their burning, but cold misery

Laziness is in my genes

moderatesnotfoundLeave a comment

Looking around school, a workplace, or on the street, you may find some people who are incredibly lazy, some seemingly addicted to exercise, and others addicted to food. For certain people there is a strong correlation between genes and how active, lazy, or addicted to food they are. These people may have one or more genes that are deactivated, causing some practices to be less entertaining than others.

Healthy practices release dopamine within the brain, which makes the individual happy. This release dramatically changes the mood of the individual, often making them feel good. This great feeling can be addictive – if one feels good when eating food, (which everyone does) over time they may eat more food than they should, due to the feeling released by dopamine.

It’s not rocket science, just addiction.

These deactivated genes make it harder to get out of bed early, keep up a healthy diet, or hit the gym. This doesn’t mean you should use the excuse: “laziness is in my genes,” instead you should try a little harder, and make positive habits that help you break you bad habits. Drive makes you, not just your genes.

Photo Credit: heinzmarketing.com

Springtime Magic

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Spring is full of magic.

Sure it brings the obvious, like flowers and butterflies; and then there’s the cliché that “romance is in the air.” But on closer inspection, spring is more than what meets the eye.

Springtime means new flowers, but more than the flowers themselves are the leaves finally bursting through the soil after a long winter hiding from the soil. Spring is the flower buds slowly opening in the heat of the sun, and closing again in the cool evening air.

Photo Credit: cdn2.uk.mentalfloss.com

More than the buzzing bees are the baby ladybugs taking their first steps across the ground, and the butterflies finally breaking free from their cocoons. It is the baby birds hatching from their shells, tottering around their nest and flying for the first time.

Spring is more than what immediately catches the eye. Spring is more than just the flowers, it is the flower buds, the newborn creatures, and the earth itself.

Photo Credit: c2.staticflickr.com

More Adventures (Fireflies)

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In my house in Massachusetts, my life was full of adventures. I was always outdoors, and I was constantly busy climbing trees or playing in the dirt.

As I was living on the east coast, the summer months were filled with bugs. If I was able to get through the swarms of mosquitos during the hot, humid days, the cool nights would bring fireflies.

When the sun dipped behind the mountains, the dark of the night would light up with hundreds of fireflies, illuminating the dark. The field across the street from my house was the best place to go – I would run around for hours, just chasing bug after bug, trying to capture one to keep in a jar.

I would look forward to the nighttime every day, filled with anticipation at dusk for the start of the night’s adventures. And each summer night, I would cross the street towards the big field and wade through the tall grass, in search for the biggest, brightest firefly.

Photo Credit: dailymail.co.uk

Foresty

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When I was little, I lived in a little house in Hadley, Massachusetts. It was in the countryside – it wasn’t cut off from civilization, but it was outside of the bustle of the town.

Three sides of my house were surrounded by a forest. That forest was my playground – I’d go on long walks with my dad, where we’d listen to the crunch of the leaves, climb on boulders, and run with my dog.

Photo Credit: images.scienceworldreport.com

My favorite part of the forest was the vine swing. About five minutes from my house grew a gigantic tree, and from the tree grew a vine that hung down, almost to the ground, and then grew back up again, forming a swing. This earth-made swing was better than any plastic playground in the middle of a busy park. This was Mother Nature’s playground, and I always felt like she made it for me.

I would play on the vine swing for hours, but when I got tired out my dad, my dog and I would venture on to the apple orchard that lay just a few minutes walk ahead.

For my younger self, this forest held everything. It was a place to play, with a million little adventures that entertained me for hours on end. I don’t know how big the forest really was, I only ever saw this one section. But through all of my adventures, I always felt like this one little part belonged to me.

Below

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I dove off the scorching rock, my hands piercing the bright blue water. Completely submerged into the cool, salty ocean, I propelled myself forward, deeper and deeper. Pushing past tangles of seaweed and batting away the occasional bottle or can, I swam down, into the depths of the dark, murky waters.

There it was, looming in the distance, dark and tremendous. I swam faster, excited. I got closer and closer, my heart beat faster.

It was gigantic, almost unreal. A piece of history, something from the past. I swam up to the wreck, pushing aside a broken board and slipped inside.

Photo Credit: financesonline.com

What I saw made me freeze, I was in awe, unable to move. It was a scene from the past, just frozen in time. Tables still set for dinner, but chairs overturned, as if guests left in a panic. It was an abandoned ship, but a ghost town. The tables had accumulated millions of barnacles, the silverware rusted and the tablecloths disintegrated.

I shivered, looking around at a life that existed over 100 years ago. It was the past, but my present. I took one last look, and swam back up to the surface.