Fall

By Jordan Mitchell

We began as green and vivacious,

Overflowing with life.

We were one part of something many

We were Untouchable.

Taking so much for granted

We were unaware.

When the end times approached

We were unprepared.

Fall.

From green to yellow

From yellow to brown

From soft to brittle

We spiral towards the ground.

I twirl this way and that

The wind catches my sides

My landing is soft.

No reason for me to cry.

My friends drop all around me

And they can’t say the same.

Some get crushed,

Things probably won’t be the same.

GSR drafts- Cassie Harris

For the Greenspring Review, I decided to write a poem, which is something I haven’t done in a while. I didn’t want to write about how I felt the quarantine  or how the quarantine affects me because those felt too overdone. Instead, I decided to write about my parent’s house that I grew up in. Because of the quarantine, I have permanently moved out, so I wanted to share my perspective of how I feel about the house now, but in a way that is almost reminiscent. To incorporate a multimedia element, I decided to add some illustrations.

“Sit and Wait”

Hey you,

How are you doing today? I know, I know, you’re hanging in there. What a crazy time we are living in right now. I know you never thought you would ever experience something like this – something so surreal, something so uncertain, something so big. You have faced big and uncertain before, but this, this is something so unbelievably, well, out of your control. All you can do is literally stay home and wait it out. Sit and wait – not something you’re great at.

When you first heard of COVID-19 you didn’t think much of it. “It’ll blow over soon”, you thought. You most certainly did not expect to be in lockdown. To not see your family or friends for such a long time. To see grocery stores so empty. To be doing school and work from home, on your laptop, on your couch, in your pjs. But here we are. Sitting and waiting.

It took you awhile, to believe this was happening, to understand the severity of it. It all felt so big, almost too big that it couldn’t even be believable, so you didn’t even feel the worry at first. But now, it sinks in as you sit and wait.

Week one of quarantine felt easy, too easy. It was spring break so no homework, no school, no work, no responsibilities. Just you, your couch, your dog, and the next show to binge watch on Netflix. You took advantage of getting to sleep in; eased your mind from all the troubles and stress you usually feel throughout the semester. And you didn’t feel bad if you decided to stay in your pjs all day. Life would go back to normal soon right, let’s enjoy this time off while we can…right?

But then you got that daunting email. You couldn’t go back to school. You couldn’t go back to work. This wouldn’t be over in two weeks. This wouldn’t be over in a month. The realization of that numbed you. You sat on your couch, in your pjs, in fear. Not even fear of the virus, but fear of what staying cooped up for weeks on end would do to you. The anxiety snuck up on you while your guard was down, creeping its way into your mind until it consumed you. It took charge of your thoughts and of your limbs. You sat there, immobile. Waiting to move.

You sat there for hours, but it felt like days. So many questions. So many concerns. “Why is this happening?” “When will it be over?” “How will I stay motivated?” “Can I do this?” I know that was hard for you. I know how easy it is to sit on a couch and ignore the things that still need to be done. I know it all felt so big that it wasn’t even worth trying. But look at you now, you are doing it. Three weeks later and it has not broken you. In the midst of the worry, the fear, and the uncertainty, you are doing it all. In fact, you are grateful that there is still homework to be done and that you are even capable of doing your job online when so many people don’t have that luxury. To you these responsibilities give you structure, and you need that! It’s a comfort for you. It says that life still has some normalcy to it, and that you must continue moving forward, while you sit and wait.

But structure wasn’t the only thing you gained. You gained a new perspective on life and became grateful for all the little things. Yes, being home all the time can be difficult, but how wonderful is it to see your beautiful family each day, something your busy schedule often kept you from. And that technology that often frustrated you, how grateful you are for it now, as it allows you to see those not so close to you. And you know that list of things you’ve been wanting to do? Do a puzzle, read a new book, clean the house till it shines, try those new recipes. Well you have done those too, and how freeing it has felt for your life not to be consumed by all that work and school, to make time for you again. You truly deserve that. Yes, time has been moving slowly, and what a miraculous gift that has been. Cherish it as you sit and wait.

This virus has taken many things from all of us, but it has also given us something as well. There are some words you never thought you’d say! But it’s true. You used to think the world was divided, and in many ways it still is. But in the past couple of weeks you have seen humanity unite in the face of incredible adversity. To see people from all over the world work endless hours to find a way to defeat this disease. To witness people singing and clapping from their windows to show gratitude and support to all of the first responders who put their lives on the line everyday so that we can stay safe. And to see something as simple as a colorful message written on the sidewalk just to lift your spirits as you take your afternoon walk. There is so much beauty in this world, beauty that often becomes clouded by ugliness, but somehow always finds a way to be prevalent again. This brings you so much hope, comfort, and peace and we all need that during these trying times. I know this hasn’t been easy, and that every day hasn’t been as positive as this letter makes it sound. But you are trying. You are creating beauty in the face of ugliness, and you will prevail. So, sit, and wait, and breathe.

Much love,

Yourself

When Fears Become Reality

It was Saturday, June 20, 2015. I frantically packed my bags for the beautiful sandy shores of the Outer Banks in North Carolina. I ran through the house as I looked for pool toys and other games to play during our two-week vacation. For beach vacations, we usually got a house with a pool because I have a huge fear of sharks. However, I do not let that fear keep me from enjoying the ocean. I have always told my parents, “I am going to die in a shark attack.” They always called me crazy since I have a better chance of dying from a cow. Despite the low probability of being attacked by a shark, I always took the necessary precautions to decrease my chance of being a victim of a shark attack. For example, never swimming early or late in the day, wearing plain bathing suits, swimming away from piers and people fishing, and avoiding unnecessary splashing.

It was finally Sunday morning and we hopped in the overpacked car to head to the beach. The moon and stars were still out, but it was super humid. I was so excited to get in the ocean in a few hours. My cousin’s obnoxiously loud snoring kept me awake most of the ride, so I went on my phone and listened to music. I opened my shark tracker app to see if any sharks had pinged recently off the coast of North Carolina.

“Mom, Dad! A tiger shark pinged off the coast of Nags Head yesterday!” I shouted over my cousin’s snoring.

“But, how far off the coast was it?” my dad asked.

“10 miles,” I replied.

“You do realize how far that is, right?” my mom said.

After what seemed like days, we finally arrived at our beach house. Before the car was even in park, my cousins and I piled out of the car like customers flooding Target on Black Friday. We sprinted like marathon runners to the water as the scorching sand burned our feet with every step. As soon as I dove into the monstrous waves, I knew it was going to be a great week. It seemed like all the worries from girls, sports, work, and life were gone.

About ten minutes later, I felt something like sandpaper brush up against my leg. I looked down nervously into the murky water to see what it was. I did not see anything, so I continued to ride the waves. A few seconds later, I felt it again.

“Did you guys feel that?” I asked.

“Feel what?” my cousin, Nathan, asked.

“I don’t know. I thought I felt something brush up against my leg,” I replied.

“I think you are just paranoid about sharks,” my cousin, Ganon, chuckled.

“You’re probably right,” I said.

I continued to swim until I heard a panicked woman’s voice from the shore. At first, I could not make out what she was saying, but then I saw everyone running to the shore with horror in their eyes. She was still screaming, and this time I could make out what she was saying.

“Shark! Shark!” I heard her yell as she pointed her finger to the water less than 50 yards from us.

My heart was beating faster than ever before, including when I asked out my first girlfriend in middle school. I heard the lifeguard blow his whistle so fast it sounded like a machine gun. He screamed at us to hurry up, but I knew I had to go slow to not disturb the water too much or else the shark might mistake us for fish. I felt I was being chased by Michael Myers from the Halloween series. I never felt so scared in my life.

Thankfully, we all made it to the shore safely. Everyone gathered on the shore like a football team in a huddle as the cool water trickled beneath our feet. We looked frantically out into the water as we searched for the shark’s fin. Every few seconds, we saw the knife-like shark fin pop up out of the water as it effortlessly moved from east to west.

The next two days were normal. The weather was hot and gorgeous as the beaches were packed with people and excitement. Children boogie boarded in the water, adults drank and talked, and teenage girls tanned. It seemed forgotten that a shark attack had happened on this busy beach just a day or two ago. For me, the attack was far from forgotten.

It was now Wednesday, June 24^th. As I drank my delicious french vanilla Dunkin’ iced coffee on the screened in porch, I turned on the news to check the weather for the day. Immediately, my heart stopped, and my coffee hit the floor and exploded all over my new white shoes. “An eight-year old boy was attacked by a shark in Surf City,” the reporter stated. Although this was not the Outer Banks, I was concerned since the reporter also mentioned this was the fourth shark attack in North Carolina this month. There was one on June 11 in Ocean Isle, North Carolina, two on June 14 in Oak Island, North Carolina, and the most recent on June 24 in Surf City, North Carolina. He then showed a map that indicated that the shark attacks seemed to be moving northward up the coast of North Carolina. I was paranoid.

The next morning, we walked onto the beach as the sun beat down on my tomato colored sunburnt face. “Should we go to the right or left?” my dad asked as we stared out over the dunes onto the sandy shores.

“Let’s go to the left,” I replied. Little did I know at the time, such a simple decision may have changed my life forever.

It was around noon when I was body surfing wave after wave with no fears in my mind. Then, I heard panic erupt like a volcano about a football field’s length away to my right. “Shark!” I heard coming from the shores. Who would have thought I would have gotten out of the water twice in one week because of a shark? I vacationed in Avon, North Carolina for years and never saw a fin of a shark. I rushed out of the water and followed the crowd to the scene. “Somebody call 911!” a mom yelled as she rushed out of the water while the waves hammered her like she was in a boxing ring. We waited anxiously as a man hobbled out of the water with a trail of red blood flushing out to sea. Everyone was in shock. Not too long later, ambulances echoed along the shores as they arrived at the scene. The stretcher was rolled along the sand at a snail’s pace, but they loaded the man on and drove off.

“That could’ve been me,” I thought to myself.

“Good thing we have a pool,” my dad joked.

During our stay, two more shark attacks occurred in North Carolina. It was then concluded that choosing a new family vacation location would be a wise decision.

October

His face was hallowed:

His lips were light pink almost white,

His skin was chapped and falling apart,

His eyes looked big but sunken in.

His skin seemed to sag;

With no muscles left to attach to.

His joints, big and bulging-

A human skeleton.

Sitting on the couch –

Silently –

Not knowing what to say next.

What do you say to a dying man?

Unusually warm out

For October. It is Halloween

Once more

This one would be different.

A Response to Responders

At a time when disaster struck, you faced exhaustion,

exceeding the limits of overtime.

When hostility attacked, you showed compassion,

persisting against their whine.

At a time when everyone fled, you trudged on,

in just your uniform and a mask.

When supplies were limited, you prevailed,

without complaining about the task.

At a time when the world took shelter, you were exposed,

fulfilling your civic duty.

When there was no one else to turn to, you stepped up,

showing your true beauty.

At a time when gratitude is needed,

since things like this come out of the blue.

When human decency is desired,

we would like to join to say thank you.

Multimedia Link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1RUjMPUqFXIUecYcWSEDdo0EVfLP485Np/view?usp=sharing