Mount Abraham Union High School

“If it keeps snowin' the way it is, I ain’t comin' to school tomorrow. I’m goin' huntin'.” After living in the Green Mountain State of Vermont for my entire life, I couldn’t imagine life anywhere else. Among my friends who often talk of escaping this horrible place, I am the only one who hasn’t thought of leaving. There are too many things holding me back that one could not explain or even begin to comprehend, unless you come from this great state. Being a Vermonter isn’t just being born here, it's something unique that each of us is privileged to learn and cherish as we grow. Ten years from now, I don’t expect to be anywhere else but here and like many others, Vermont will always lie true in my heart no matter where my life takes me.

Vermont. Definitely a country state. Not for me. When I was little, I used to love waking up to snow every morning in the winter, but now as I get older I’ve realized that I hate the snow. In fact, I hate being cold. 70% of the year is cold and then in the summer everyone is complaining that it’s too hot. Even though that is not the reason why I hate Vermont, I just thought I would put that out there.

I have lived here in Vermont all my life. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I grew up among the mountains, the forests, and the extremely cold winters, and I love them all. I have traveled to different states, as far west as Colorado, and as far south as Florida, but nothing can compare to the natural and wild terrain of Vermont. I like the closeness of the mountains, the rolling hills and the cold, crisp and calm rivers.

Outside of Vermont, it seems to me that everything is wide open as far as the eyes can see, especially out west. When I went to Colorado for camp, I felt exposed, too exposed. It got to me once I was at camp for a few days, and we happened to ride through a small canyon on the bus ride to one of our activities. I was suddenly reminded of what it felt like to be hugged by the landscape. The closeness of the canyon walls made me feel at home, even though the scenery itself was not what I was used to.

The first thing that comes to mind when you think of Vermont is lively green mountains, pastures filled with cows and various barnyard animals, a beautiful autumn, punishing winters, and small town community. I have lived in Vermont my whole life. I was born and raised in Vermont, and I wouldn’t want to be born anywhere else. I’ve lived in the same house, on the same mountain and in the same town my entire life. I rarely leave my local area, only on occasional trips to Burlington or Williston. This is true for most small town Vermonters.

The most important thing to me about my life in Vermont is that this is where most of my childhood memories are, most of my friends, and most of my family lives. I would love to leave Vermont just to go out and see other places but everything important in my life is here, not to mention that Vermont is one of the most beautiful states I’ve ever seen, with everything people could want. One of my favorite things that Vermont has is great hunting.

“Roy, what do you reckon it means? Roy?”

Roy had nodded off. His hat, pulled low over his eyes, blotted out most of the late afternoon sun. His shoulders drooped and he leaned off to one side, dangerously teetering on his seat.

Edna considered prodding her brother, but she feared that he would topple off the highly precarious seat if he was startled. He would likely break his already fragile hip. She repeated her question, louder, but her brother, either genuinely asleep or simply feigning obliviousness to ignore the real world — even if just for a few moments — was not roused.

Edna sighed. She pulled at the collar of her maroon coat; sweat had pooled there and she begged for a breeze to pass through, even if it did knock her brother off his stool. The coat was for later in the evening. The sky would be teeming with mosquitoes and the air would be crisp. Too cold for August, but Vermont weather is an unpredictable beast.

It was summer’s last farewell.

If not for words, would we still have questions?
Could we think, if our language was lost?
I sense a change already, falling backwards
Forever I am plummeting from a higher elevation
Too afraid to open my eyes.

If not for breath, would we still have air?
Can life grow and change without oxygen?
As my lungs expand, I raise my eyelids slowly
But as always, I only see what I want to see
Too afraid to face the honesty of truth.

The moon is my ghost, as I land softly
I leave no footprints on its cratered surface
One question at a time, one breath after the other
Though I am no magician, I still feel the magic
There is life all around me, holding me up.

Natural Disaster

By Kristiana Letourneau
Mount Abraham Union High School, Grade 10

For over a week
Your lifeless body lay
Trapped beneath a mountain of rubble
The only remains of what was once
Some kind of store, with a church in the back.
What did this building mean to you?
Perhaps you worked there, at the store
Selling hardware, all kinds of marvelous tools
Providing people with the means
To start, to build a strong foundation for a new life.
Or maybe you were a sinner
Your soul in dire need of saving
You wanted to rush right through that store
Into the church, searching for someone
You needed to pour out the truth
Separate it from all the lies
Needed an ear unknown to you
To tell you everything would be alright.
But perhaps this building was only that:
A building, and you simply sought shelter
As the winds whipped faster around you.
They saw your hand reaching up
From amidst the broken brick
You never made it inside that day.

believing
it seems to me
is the root of all knowing
for what i have found
is worth far more than all i have lost
what once i took for granted
i now embrace each day
like a breath of frigid air
on a morning laced with ice
you magnetize me into
delight so deep and dark
you are swirling, yes
with all the light of things unknown
all of you which
i have pulled from dreaming
to become the reality beneath
the heavy lids that open to wonder
enchantment; surely you know
for your spell is as natural
as the garden which flourishes
in your heart planting sunlight
and bittersweet promises
too much for a wanderer to hold
yet he stops and he stares
as do i, for the day
breaks as surely as you
never, far more than this
your edge to fit with mine.

By Aryka Petelle
Mount Abraham Union High School, 11th Grade

It was late at night and Will and I were driving back home from our day in San Francisco. The kids were sleeping peacefully in the back seat, and I was ready to doze off as well when I felt the car jolt and come to a stop. I couldn’t quite see Will, but the stream of curse words told me something was wrong.