So this is just a rough draft of an essay I just wrote for the Williams supplement. I doubt I'll even use it and it is nowhere near finalized, but I want feedback about my idea! I'm really stumped on this prompt and I just needed to write something in order to get my creative juices flowing, so to speak. Anyways, please any critiques are needed! I will return the favor, I promise!
Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particularly significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.
The hum of our great metallic bird droned out the sounds of human chatter. The light was fading from the pale, iridescent rose and periwinkle hues of early morning into the husky blues and greys of daytime. The outside world, that blur of the browns and greens of nature flashing by, began to slow and morph into a vivid array of shapes and colors and life. My three-year-old eyes remained fixated on the transparent pane of plastic that drew the boundary between the world and I, even as the internal engine of our plane groaned with relief as we rolled to a stop. I was transfixed by the airport workers in their bright orange vests who systematically transported the luggage, by the birds that glided regally through the air, and by the leaves browned by autumn that danced across the ground, engaged in an elegant waltz with the wind. Suddenly, in the back of my mind, neurons fired across synapses and signals triggered my memory: I abruptly recalled our reason for arriving in this new place, but soon after found myself upset and very unsettled. I opened my mouth and exclaimed to my parents, clearly quite disturbed, "But I don't see Attle!" How could my parents have been so content to offer me with false information?
Fourteen years later, I still cherish that irreplaceable childlike innocence and naiveté I possessed when I sat that day, genuinely dumbfounded because I could not "see Attle," even though my parents had promised we were going to Seattle. The wonders of the natural world never cease to awe me, whether I stare out the window of my AP Calculus classroom at the endless blue of the Pacific ocean, or out the scratched window of my 2000 Honda Accord as I drive by the orange pumpkin farms that are a staple of our town's economy.
Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particularly significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.
The hum of our great metallic bird droned out the sounds of human chatter. The light was fading from the pale, iridescent rose and periwinkle hues of early morning into the husky blues and greys of daytime. The outside world, that blur of the browns and greens of nature flashing by, began to slow and morph into a vivid array of shapes and colors and life. My three-year-old eyes remained fixated on the transparent pane of plastic that drew the boundary between the world and I, even as the internal engine of our plane groaned with relief as we rolled to a stop. I was transfixed by the airport workers in their bright orange vests who systematically transported the luggage, by the birds that glided regally through the air, and by the leaves browned by autumn that danced across the ground, engaged in an elegant waltz with the wind. Suddenly, in the back of my mind, neurons fired across synapses and signals triggered my memory: I abruptly recalled our reason for arriving in this new place, but soon after found myself upset and very unsettled. I opened my mouth and exclaimed to my parents, clearly quite disturbed, "But I don't see Attle!" How could my parents have been so content to offer me with false information?
Fourteen years later, I still cherish that irreplaceable childlike innocence and naiveté I possessed when I sat that day, genuinely dumbfounded because I could not "see Attle," even though my parents had promised we were going to Seattle. The wonders of the natural world never cease to awe me, whether I stare out the window of my AP Calculus classroom at the endless blue of the Pacific ocean, or out the scratched window of my 2000 Honda Accord as I drive by the orange pumpkin farms that are a staple of our town's economy.
