Abby Emmons

To me, being a Vermonter is and does and always has meant many things. It means taking pride in living in the only state in the United States of America that doesn’t have billboards. It means mocking tourists for driving too slowly, getting lost and taking too many pictures… haven’t they ever seen a chicken before? It means drinking ice-cold lemonade in the summer, fresh apple cider in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter and maple syrup in the spring. It means enjoying hay season even though there are a million other things you’d rather be doing than getting hay chaff down your shirt and dust up your nose. It means getting arrested for whistling underwater… “I didn’t know that was illegal! I swear!” It means going on wild horseback riding adventures in the woods and not coming back until after dark. It means approaching life head on and never taking anything too seriously.

Voting: Your Voice

By Abby Emmons
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Voting. Why do it? Every four years, people register, people vote. Regardless of who you are, as long as you’re 18 or older, you are the one who casts the ballot and helps to decide our political future. Some people may question this right. Why do it? Does it matter if you don’t cast your vote? Will your one vote really do anything? It’s not about that one little vote, but rather about your voice and mindset. If you walk into the polls and cast your ballot, you have put your voice out there. If every single person in America had the mindset that they have a voice and the power to influence, then all of their little votes would add up and become something greater and more powerful than each individual one could ever be. Your voice is our future. Use it.

It was a sunny, scorching hot Saturday afternoon on April 20, when out of sheer boredom, I decided to give my strong-willed Morgan mare, Cassie a short workout. It had been a long time since I last rode her, so to ensure that she wouldn’t abscond me from the area, I made up my mind to ride her in my parents’ enormous indoor arena. I grabbed a rope halter from the tack room and attempted to approach her. When she saw the rope halter, she knew that I was up to something and tried to avoid me by running away every time I approached her. After chasing her around her paddock for a while, I managed to coax her close to me, tie on her halter, and lead her through the gate. Cassie pranced vainly up the driveway and into the barn and fidgeted impatiently as I attached the crossties to her halter. By the time I had thoroughly brushed her down and cleaned out her hooves, she appeared to have settled down so we set off enthusiastically for the arena.

“Crunch, crunch, crunch, snap! Crunch, crunch, crunch, snap” “Hey, Abby, Meg! Come look at what I found!” My brother’s excited voice rang out through the clear forest air, breaking the monotonous sound of crinkling leaves and snapping twigs. Adrenaline pulsing through our veins, we looked up, half expecting Will to emerge from the thicket with some kind of wild animal. Instead a different sight met our eyes.
“Look at this place,” I breathed astonished.
“Isn’t it great!” Will piped up.
“What a dump!” Meg said.
Indeed her words rang true. We were staring at three acres of beautiful wooded forest and part of a stream littered with stoves, ancient bottles, pipes, pots, refrigerators, even a couple of demolished Mercedes.
“It’s a gold mine!”
“We’ve hit the jackpot!” Will said theatrically.

Super Powers

By Abby Emmons
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Imagine this: You’re sitting at your desk five minutes before school starts when your math teacher walks in. “Uh oh,” you automatically think, and immediately pull out your Algebra II textbook and cram for that pop quiz on matrices, equations of lines and solving for invariables that you know he’s going to spring. How did you know there was a pop quiz? Not everybody has the ability to read minds just like that.