Aaron Beverly, Earth Caretaking, October 15, 2002

The sun now rises over the subalpine region of Sergeant's Ridge, Shasta's rocky backbone, and traces a path in the southern sky. Down below the equator spring has arrived. For those of us that dwell in the north, darkness comes early and the setting sun brings the crisp chill of October. Winter is near. All life here knows it. The campfire cuts through the cold and warms the ring of people gathered around its intense but placid flames. Beyond the perimeter of its light, shadows dance amongst the dense flora to the tune of the crickets' steady pulsating melody. The people here talk and laugh, gazing into the ochery heart of the fire. Charlie Storm Owl sings an earth song of farewell in an ancient language that is as old as life itself. Sparks rise into the sky where silhouettes of trees stand against the starry heavens. The half-moon is luminescent. If all the struggle and hardship in life were necessary to lead us to this moment, I can honestly say it was worth the trouble. There is no moment in life that is more perfect than the one we are experiencing right now.

Aaron Beverly, Boy's Rites of Passage, June 17, 2002

Today is an exercise in teamwork, decision making, and leadership. The whole group of boys, on their own, by themselves, together, are to climb the mountain behind Tim's land. All are to make it, or none are to make it. They have until 5:00 p.m. to make it to the top and back. If they are a minute late, they won't get dinner. Last year's group was two minutes late. They went hungry. What the group does not know, is that peak that they see from the kitchen of Tim's camp, is not really the peak. It is merely a ridge hiding another peak. A cruel deception. A lie. And the second unseen peak? It isn't the top either. The true mountain top lies even further back and up into the bush. And is that really the top? Who knows - noone's ever made it that far. So the group will be torn between their desire to make it to the top and their desire to eat. They must together find a happy balance between the two - to get as far as possible and to make it home on time. So what would motivate them to miss dinner to continue on to the top, when they could technically turn around at any time? Simple. Glory. The chance to forever live as legends in the annals of Headwater's history. To be the group that makes it the farthest and still return home for a hearty meal. The impetus of all men.

Aaron Beverly, Plant Class, June 3, 2002

It is truly amazing the vast kingdom of life that will reveal itself if you only slow down and sit in quietude before its invisible gates. As I am walking to the edge of a pleasant meadow to retrieve my supplies that I left there while exploring the surrounding area, a quick glint catches my eye and I kneel in its direction to see what there is to be seen. Slowly an intricate world previously invisible and almost destroyed by my lumbering forays through the woods appears before me to delight my senses. The low western sun illuminates a vast network of webs between the conifers and ferns that are so numerous that they surely must present an impassable barrier. Millions upon millions of small flying insects dance amongst the last dwindling rays of the day. They swirl and zip at great speeds, skirting death as they fly through the narrow gaps of the spider's traps. Hoping to benefit from the swarm, a spider right before me is quickly constructing a circular web between a small cedar and raspberry bush overhanging the spitting and gurgling creek that borders the meadow. There is a veritable rainbow of colors that shimmers as it wafts in the evening breeze. It is a vision of such splendor that I feel compelled to record it within my journal but no sooner than I put my pen to the page, I look up to find the gates once again closed and kingdom beyond gone until another time.

Aaron Beverly, Plant Class, June 2, 2002

The hillside before me is of modest inclination and is blanketed by a meadow of verdant grasses, shooting stars, and picture plants. Spring runoff has turned it into a shimmering delight where the lightwaves dance in perfect synchronization with the gurgling music of the gently falling water. For a moment, I am embossened in such stunning beauty that it is almost as if I must struggle to breathe. That man has become so separate from this experience surely must be one of the most prodigious losses he has incurred through progress.