Notes from the Field

GOA’s young adventurers reflect on their time in the wild.

The elements, the senses,
My sight

The stony path,
Shaped like the raging waterfall.

Scents of pine, oak, and fir
But also decay
Awakening my fear
A fear so real I can taste
The ashes of its aftermath.

Hotter than the sun on my neck
And infinitely colder
Than the moonless night.

–Anonymous

An Otter Tale

When I lived in Rockaway, Oregon,
I found a trail that led to a pond.
One day, there were two otters
swimming.

I watched them for a bit.
Came back the next day
And watched them for hours.
After a while, I got into the water
with them. They stared at me.

The otters were as black as night
With dark eyes that pierced your soul
But were peaceful like the ocean on a
hot night
With a cool breeze and the stars out.
The water was calm
I swam
They swam next to me
I felt like nothing could happen.
Like the world wasn’t there.
Just sound, just love.

–andrew Stellfrug

Beautiful Rain

Touching my back with your gentle hand.

Showering me with your tears

Replacing my pain with your dampness.

Bringing us back together again.

Showing me it’s okay to cry.

–Musu Conteh

Dear River,

First, I will thank you for the adventure that would not have been possible without you. Also, for being such a good sport about all the people who are careless about your health and well- being. I’m sorry you have to tolerate so much gunk and junk and I wish everyone would be as environmentally conscious as those GOA
expedition-ers.

Thank you for being a worthy host of all the plants and animals we saw (and to us), which helped to make the journey informative and worthwhile. For still being beautiful after years of undesirable treatment and circumstances, and for your strength and persistence, thank you.

Lastly, thank you for leading us through a safe and sunny trip. Thanks for flowing quickly when we were tired, and for slowing down when we just wanted to watch the fascinating wildlife drift past. Thank you for bringing a different experience to my life and for offering a new outlook around each curve.

Sincerely,
Lydia Smith

Julina Brooks

Growing up, I never really had the chance to go camping, or even spend much time outside, for that matter.

The first time I went camping was June of 2003, a year after my mom passed away. My dad talked about camping 24/7. He was always telling me how much my mom wanted to go camping at the beach, so that’s where we went, in memory of her.

We got a really big campsite, and our tent seemed even bigger. I loved it.

On the first night we walked down to the beach. My dad and I played in the sand for hours. I loved the squishy feeling of the sand under my bare feet.

I got bored when my dad sat down, so I ran down to the water. I hadn’t thought I’d be
going in, so I didn’t pack a bathing suit. I jumped into the ocean with all my clothes on and splashed and swam. It was so cold, but so much fun.

My dad finally called for me to come back, saying the sun was going to do down in a few minutes.

When I got back, I sat next to my dad for a long time, the two of us just watching the sunset. I remember the sunset as the most beautiful thing I ever saw.

Watching the Clouds
Caitie Baglien

Looking out my window
Waiting for the rain
Wishing the sun would come again

Sitting in my chair
Dreaming of somewhere, without sadness
While watching the sky for a break in the
clouds to show me the way
Wishing the sun would stay out forever

Lying in the grass
Seeing the clouds pass
Watching the shadow of troubles
Don’t know what to feel

Suddenly there are storm clouds
Blocking my glimpses of hope
And I get lost and confused

Seeing all the birds fly
Wishing I could go so high,
Into the clouds above me

Climbing up a tree
Just the clouds and me
I finally dream away my troubles
In the clear, blue sky
On the day I die