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.
Natural Reflection
My gaze moves from my empty bowl to the window of my tent. I observe the rugged landscape around me. The jagged and uneven rocky formations protrude randomly from the horizon as if they were drawn by a kindergartner. The sun's rays reflect off the water and into my eyes reminding me of my task. Catching a fish means dinner. Failure would mean hunger. I feel like a Neanderthal, tool in hand, whose infatuations could not extend further than his basic needs. Now, basic need, hunger. My tool is neither stone nor bronze, but graphite. It's a fly rod, and it's my weapon of choice.
I wet my fly line methodically, exploring new waters with each cast. My eyes look on with luminosity and intent; two pearls in a sea of anticipation. The water carries my hope, my excitement, my well being. I tell myself, "I need to fill my bowl."
I was in the middle of the Wild.
In The Wild, there is a feeling of isolation indescribable to people who have never experienced it. There's no sadness. Rather, an unparalleled sense of independence. No computers, no television. Everything is organic. Everything is free. I try to make sense of my surroundings by defining them. But words fall short. Their inflexibility cannot encompass the fluidity of this place. Calling the sky blue and the trees green would do them a disservice. There is so much more than color.
While fishing, I compare myself to my surroundings. How am I like the waterfall above me? As it falls it grows, branching out with diversity. Like my life, it has a definite beginning and an ambiguous ending. I no longer strive to describe my surroundings through definitions but rather through myself.
"Who defines this land?"
"I do."
seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.
Natural Reflection
My gaze moves from my empty bowl to the window of my tent. I observe the rugged landscape around me. The jagged and uneven rocky formations protrude randomly from the horizon as if they were drawn by a kindergartner. The sun's rays reflect off the water and into my eyes reminding me of my task. Catching a fish means dinner. Failure would mean hunger. I feel like a Neanderthal, tool in hand, whose infatuations could not extend further than his basic needs. Now, basic need, hunger. My tool is neither stone nor bronze, but graphite. It's a fly rod, and it's my weapon of choice.
I wet my fly line methodically, exploring new waters with each cast. My eyes look on with luminosity and intent; two pearls in a sea of anticipation. The water carries my hope, my excitement, my well being. I tell myself, "I need to fill my bowl."
I was in the middle of the Wild.
In The Wild, there is a feeling of isolation indescribable to people who have never experienced it. There's no sadness. Rather, an unparalleled sense of independence. No computers, no television. Everything is organic. Everything is free. I try to make sense of my surroundings by defining them. But words fall short. Their inflexibility cannot encompass the fluidity of this place. Calling the sky blue and the trees green would do them a disservice. There is so much more than color.
While fishing, I compare myself to my surroundings. How am I like the waterfall above me? As it falls it grows, branching out with diversity. Like my life, it has a definite beginning and an ambiguous ending. I no longer strive to describe my surroundings through definitions but rather through myself.
"Who defines this land?"
"I do."
