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.
A raw Arctic wind howled over the peaks of Utah's Wasatch Range, ripping through my mask and biting my chapped face. Intimidated, my brother and I halted our trek up the canyon. We thrust our skis tail-first into the deep powder and, as the wind-whipped cloud of snow settled around us, I unzipped my pack to remove my camera. The regal elegance of the snow-plastered pines against the sky's icy blue veneer produced an image that would forever entice me back to the mountains.
Skiing has long been not merely my passion, but also my refuge from life's pressures. A solitary dash through a dense glade or a blazing line down a backcountry slope never fails to generate visceral excitement. Recently, however, skiing has acquired a far greater significance for me. In late August, I underwent a major reconstructive knee surgery, an operation that left my athletic future in serious doubt. Mountain biking, running, and skiing were shoved to the background, while simply walking again became my next milestone. As I began my first semester of college, I toiled tirelessly rehabilitating my knee. When at times frustration struck and progress felt lethargic, I discovered inspiration in the photographs from that excursion into Utah's backcountry years ago. The stunning scene my lens had ensnared in Cottonwood Canyon evolved into an aspiration, a destination awaiting me on the tedious trail to recovery. Today, I am still on that trail, with many miles yet to conquer. Ahead, I know the majesty of those peaks rising before me, and that visage alone is sufficient to spur me forward.
Thank you very much- any and all help would be greatly appreciated.
A raw Arctic wind howled over the peaks of Utah's Wasatch Range, ripping through my mask and biting my chapped face. Intimidated, my brother and I halted our trek up the canyon. We thrust our skis tail-first into the deep powder and, as the wind-whipped cloud of snow settled around us, I unzipped my pack to remove my camera. The regal elegance of the snow-plastered pines against the sky's icy blue veneer produced an image that would forever entice me back to the mountains.
Skiing has long been not merely my passion, but also my refuge from life's pressures. A solitary dash through a dense glade or a blazing line down a backcountry slope never fails to generate visceral excitement. Recently, however, skiing has acquired a far greater significance for me. In late August, I underwent a major reconstructive knee surgery, an operation that left my athletic future in serious doubt. Mountain biking, running, and skiing were shoved to the background, while simply walking again became my next milestone. As I began my first semester of college, I toiled tirelessly rehabilitating my knee. When at times frustration struck and progress felt lethargic, I discovered inspiration in the photographs from that excursion into Utah's backcountry years ago. The stunning scene my lens had ensnared in Cottonwood Canyon evolved into an aspiration, a destination awaiting me on the tedious trail to recovery. Today, I am still on that trail, with many miles yet to conquer. Ahead, I know the majesty of those peaks rising before me, and that visage alone is sufficient to spur me forward.
Thank you very much- any and all help would be greatly appreciated.
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