TheMidlandWindow
EditedandcompiledbyJohnIsaacson‘94andRickSawyer‘70
Contents:
Poetry
Z.Kuria~2026PoetLaureate~“ASimpleSchool” “GrassMountain”
EvieHill “TheCreekThroughMiddleYard”
MiaBair “StudyLate”
AustinKimball “SpringSickness”
ShortStory
EsmeMalone “ATypicalMidlandMorning”
ChapelTalk
AmelieGrant “Speak,ChildoftheForest”
Dedicatedtotheclassof2026:
SaschaYurchak ArtStudioatUniversityofVermont
VeronicaTate BiochemistryatSmithCollege
KathyZhan BioengineeringatSantaClaraUniversity
SeraphinaNevels BiologyUniversityofIllinoisSpringfield
MelanieMuller BusinessManagementatCaseWesternReserve University
ZKuria ChemistryatUCSantaCruz
MingdaDu EconomicsatCarletonCollege
StellaTannahill EnvironmentalScienceatColoradoCollege
HaydenPayson FoodSystemsattheUniversityofVermont
JayLui GeophysicalSciencesatUniversityofChicago
KevinLyu InternationalRelationsatClaremont McKennaCollege
GuillermoRodriguez MarineScienceatCalPoly
EmmaHomrig MathematicsatUniversityofTexasatAustin
EZWard MechanicalEngineeringatColoradoSchoolof Mines
MaudeGiroux NaturalResourcesandConservationat UniversityofBritishColumbia
MiaBair NursingatHopeCollege
ShaeRoberts NursingatPurdueUniversity
RiverPeace PlantScienceatCalPoly
MateoTimpson PoliticalScienceatGettysburgCollege
AliceGibbs PsychologyatReedCollege
JulissaCastillo UndecidedatUCBerkeley
Poetry
"ASimpleSchool
thatwouldn'thavetheamenities ofThacherorWebb,butthat wouldgivewhatafellow reallyneeded."
Andinstantly,inoneechoingrefrain, thereis, nestledwithinadivulgence ofnothaving, thereis, myhome.
Iknownow,aftermanyyears, thecall ofthehousefinch.
Iknowhow, hollow, itreverberates throughthe youngmorningfog ofantiquity, alongtheriver, intothehorsebarn, throughclass,givingshape, becomingauditorylight.
PerhapsIknowsomething
nowtoo,ofwhy I'veputup withallthisdust.
GrassMountain
Iseeyoublush everyspring, thecolor ofinnumerablepoppies.
Ihavefeelings, heavyasearth inmychest, andtheybelongto you,amountain.
Romantically, Ilosemyself;Iblink, I'vetakenmoresteps, rudely,onyourface, anditdawnsonme, intheasinineway afallingleafmakesyoulookup, thatI'vebeentalkingtoyou!
Yes, you,amountain.
TheCreekThroughMiddleYard
Itisrainingagain. Waterisrushingunderthebridge withaclearandcoolAlamoPintado aliveagain.
Anotherappears byinformalrequest fromeverybeing whocriesoutforchange.
Inanswer,natureoffersup asmallsolution: thecreekthroughmiddleyard.
Puddlesjoinhands alonganexpanseofmistyponds andmuddyspots paradingtotherhythmoftheraindrops. Continue,continue,continue.
Umbrellasandraincoats provethatwecannotmoveon with"businessasusual” whencloudshavemorepressingplans. Suddenandurgent,itcomes. Leisurelyandpatient,itgoes.
Thecreeksays,“Belikeme. Youcan’ttakeyourusualroute. Forgeanewpatharoundme.”
Carvingrocksoslowly butsopowerfully, majestyandbeauty inrushingshallows thatwillcurveandmeander untilthesuncomesoutagain.
StudyLate
Someoneoncetoldme, Andthisisthekey: Studylate, Messwithyourfate. Lateonenight, Ifoundmyselfinagreatfight Themoonwasfull, andwithitsleepwasnull. Astirednessvanished Iopenedspanish Ifeltneardead AsIread. Itwasnotfun, Butworkneededtobedone Mydearroommateslept, AndInearwept’ Forwitheveryturn, Iwatchedthenightburn. Atthehourofthree, Somethingstartledme, Atthedoortherewasalighttap, Thenacabinshakingrap. Freefrombysheet, Icarefullymovedmyfeet. Iopenedthedoor, ButIsawnothingmore. Iputonmyhat,
Andwassurprisedbyacat.
Thekittywaslittle, Butplayedafiddle, Heworelongtie, AndthesongInotedwasamericanpie.
Thesongwassharp, Similartothatofastressedharp, Heturnedtomeandsaid, “Yougotoutofbed” Inodded, Hefurtherprodded, “Youwerequitebold, Butthenightissocold. Givemeafew, Iknowwhattodo” Thenheshook andgaveapleasedlook. “Iwillmakeyouacat, Howaboutthat?”
Thefiddlerresumedhissong Andinnotlong, Andwithlittlefight, Iwashisheight. Hegaveapur Andmyskinturnedtofur. “Nowyournotcold, Butthenightisgettingold. Iearliersawamouse
OverbyFaith’shouse It'snotafeat
Togetagoodeat,
Strikequick, Andyougetyourpick”
Beforeweparted, Istarted “Whydidyoudothis?
Hegaveahiss: "Someoneoncetoldme
Andthisisthekey: Studylate
Messwithyourfate”
SpringSickness
Nowisthetimewhentremblingonitsstem
Eachpersondescendsintosickness; Coughsandsneezesblowinthebreeze; Arumblingbreath,aharshandintensecough!
Eachpersondescendsintosickness; Themasksmakeapersonrunaway; Arumblingbreath,aharshandintensecough! Theairissickandfreshlikeabalanceintheuniverse.
Themasksmakeapersonrunaway; Weakimmunesystem,fightingthegerms. Theairissickandfreshlikeabalanceintheuniverse. Thecoughdrownsoutthenoiseinitswake.
Weakimmunesystem,fightingthegerms, Keepsitssystemfromthesickeningpast
Thecoughdrownsoutthenoiseinitswake. Likethegermsflyingrighttowardsme!
ShortStory
ATypicalMidlandMorning
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
. Thesoundofmy7o’clockalarmjoltsmeawake.It'stimeforanother longdayatMidland.Barelyawake,Ireachtoturnoffmyalarm,but inmy half-awakestate,Ican’tfigureouthowtoturnoffthealarmIhavehadfor overayear.Iendupunpluggingdespitethefactthatoneofmybiggestpet peevesishavingtoresetmyalarmclock.Igetupandgrabsomewarmpants andathickjacket.Itakeadeepbreath,openthedoor,andaminstantly startledawake bythecoldair.MyfacehurtsandI'msocold.Icomplain abouthowcoldIamtoeveryoneIwalkby.
Insteadofthetypical"Goodmorning,howareyou?"Igreeteveryone withan"I'msocold."AfterthelongtrektoStillman,Ifinallyenter,onlyto havetheFODbelate.Sighing,Iturntothefewotherearlyrisers and immediatelycomplainabouthowtheFODnevergetslapsforbeinglate,but ifweareasecondlate,wegetsomanylaps.Igrabsomethingtodrinkand takeaseatandwaitfortheFOD.Julia'shusbandcomesintogetfood,his wife,Juliaknowsbetterthantocomeearlyorelseshewillendupdoingthe FOD'sjob.AfterawhiletheFODentersandgetsgreetedwithsomething like,“Youhaveonejob.""You'relate."“Ihavebeenhereforever."TheFOD alwaysrespondswithsomethinglike“SorryIforgot,"“Isleptin,"andthe worstonebeing“Therewasamix-up."Isignin,getmymeds,andmakethe longjourneybacktomycabin,butbeforeIevenstepoutofStillman,Iget stoppedwith"Esme,canyoucovermyjob?"
Iturnaroundandagree;forsomereasonIagree,sothat'showIend updoingdishhouseinslidesorwaiteringinshortsordoingfarminmyPJs. BythetimeIamdonewiththejob,Ihaveonlytenminutestoget ready.IrunbacktomyroomandthinkofthewarmthIgettobegreetedby.I
grabapileofstuffandshoveitinmybackpackandrunbackintothecoldto makeittoclass.Theteachergreetsuswithajoyfulhello.Icantellthisis goingtobealongclass.Atthispointtheteacherasksusasimplequestion, like,"Howdidyousleep?"Tome,it'sthesamethingasasking,"IfIhaveten cowsandoneisyellow,howmanycookiescanImakeifmygastankisonly halffull?"Ilooktheteacherintheeyeandsay,"Huh?"Theteacherlaughs andmoveson.Thisisgoingtobealongday…
ChapelTalk
Speak,ChildoftheForest
Thereisacertainpridethatcomesfrompain–thescrapesandscabs thatwhisperofathornyembrace,theviolet-blackbruisesthatsingofarock andahardplace.GrowingupintheforgottenstretchofCaliforniawherethe coastbendseast-west,youlearnacertainadversityfromthesprawling wildlands.Myhomeaddresshaschangedstreetsandevenzipcodes,buthas alwaysneighboredtheLosPadresNationalForest.
BetweentheSiliconValleystartupsandthevibingHollywoodpop culturesceneliesasetofmountainsthathaveremainedundeveloped,almost quiet,butareinexplicablyloudtothosewholistenwithenoughpatience. Thetrailsexistedatsomepoint,butbudgetcutsandquick-growingplants haveswallowedthemtonotmuchmorethanlinesonmapsandreminiscence. Formostoftheyear,heatexhaustionhauntslikeashadow,rattlesnakesrule patchesofsun,andwildfireperchesawaitingthesmallestspark.Ifwe’re lucky,itrainsforafewmonths,theclouds'ticklingembraceseeding superbloomsandunfurlingoilypoisonoakleaves.Fromasatelliteview,the forestisalabyrinthofhotchaparralandovergrowntricklingdrainages.
Underitsthickskin,however,liessomeofthemostpristineandunknown beautyavailable.200+footwaterfalls,indigenousculturepaintedandcarved intorockfaces,icy-coldswimmingholes,fern-blanketedslopes,arraysof flora,andellipticalwindcaves.ButtheLosPadresprotectsitselffromaworld seekingtotake,tosee,tobulldoze,andtoleave.Ifyouenteritsnever-ending expanses,itleavesanunforgettablemark.
Igrewupwithmyparentsandmygrandparentsinthesamehouse.I playedstorewithmygrandma,ourcommoditybeautifulflowersandour currencysmall,smooth,blackstones.MymomandIwouldgoonrainy-day walkstolistentothethundereverytimeitboomed.MybrotherandImade
fortsinthesagebrush.Mydadtookmetoexplorethecanyons,taughtmeto identifythelichens,andshowedmewheretofindthechoicechanterelle mushrooms.TherewasatreeoutsidemyhouseunderwhichIstoredallmy naturetreasures,mymomgladtokeeptheirdirtoutside.Iwasachildof never-endingenergy,aballofexcitement.Iwouldruntomygrandfather's rockingchairtotellhimofmylatestadventure,andhiseyeswouldtwinkleas hetoldme,"Speak,childoftheforest.”
Thislineisoneofhisfavorites–histonealwaysexudingthesame calmness.Iamnotthefirst,northelast,tobeaddressedthisway.Infact,I thinkhewouldsaythistosomeoneregardlessoftheirageorrelationshipwith nature.Withinthenuanceofthesefivesimplewordsliesanopportunityto expandourviewofthehuman-naturebond:regardlessofproximitytonature ordegreeofurbandevelopment,weareallchildrenoftheland.Weare sustainedbyinvertebratesthatburstfrombusysoil,theairwebreatheteems withmoleculesandmicroorganismsthatshapeourbodysystems,andevery materialweinteractwithoriginatedfromtheearth.It'seasytoforgetthe lifebloodofourplanetwhilewalkingthroughskyscrapersthatobscurethe sky.Butthroughtrainingourearstolistenbeyondtheartificialbuzzof industrialization,theforestbecomesaudible:achirpingswallowthatflutters betweenbuildings,acricketlostontheconcrete,andtheever-presentessence ofthetrillionsofspeciesthateludeoursensesbutexistwithintheair.When werealizewearechildrenoftheforest,wearerenewedwiththeabilityto speakandlisten.
Iwasbornin2009:mychildhoodhasbeendefinedbyclimate changediscourseandtheriseoftheconceptofsustainability.Whatdoesit meantostewardalandscape?Howisthatbalancedwithrecreation,profit, andresources?Iwasluckytohaveaccesstoanationalforestthatgavemethe opportunitytoponderthesequestions.Perhaps,ifIhadnotspenttimein thislandscape,Iwouldnotcareenoughtoevenconsidermyimpact.
Mostoften,impactisdescribedasthehumaneffectontheland.I feelresponsibletousemypowertoattempttoimpacttheforestinawaythat
isbeneficial.Whetherviapurposefulpurchasingoradvocacy,anyone (regardlessofforestproximity)canshapetheoutcomeofaforestby controllingtheiractionstodeterminethetonethroughwhichtheyspeakto it.Forme,however,theimpactthatfeelsmostrelevantisthatwhichthe foresthasimprintedonme:beyondasetofmemoriesandscabs,the reflectionIhavegainedfromtheplacehasshapedmymoralcompassand mentalstate.AscientificjournalIreadlastweekdetailedhowexposureto greenspacescantrainourimmunesystemtocutexcessinflammationthat causeschemicaldepression.Ittookmeasecondtodecodethejargonofthis paper,butonsecondlookIdeeplyfeltthemeaning:theforesttrainsmybody tofeelfulfilled.ThewaythatIspeaktotheforestaffectsmyimpactonitbut alsodetermineshowitrespondsandimpactsme.Withinthatconversation liesapotentialforamutuallybeneficialrelationshipofreciprocity.Whenwe givetheforestthepatienceandspacetoformabond,weopenthedoortoa newsetofchemicalandmentalpossibilitieswithinourbodies.Wemuststart thatconversationtoformtheconnection,andasthatevolves,sodowe.
Myloveforthisnaturalspaceisnot3-dimensional,notparasitic,not conformativeto‘hobby,’andalmostcontradictorytothemodernscientific definitionsoftheconsciousnessofplaceandnature.AlthoughIfeeltheword limitsmyrelationship,mylovefortheLosPadresisakintowhatmanydefine asspiritual.
Scienceagreesthatplantsrespirate,thatbirdscommunicate,andthat soilbirths.Butsciencerarelypurportsthatthesethingsactinresponseand harmonywiththehumansthattreadamongthem.Itisconsidered coincidencewhenIliebeneathasweepingvalleyoakcanopyandfeelmy heartbeatslowtomatchtheancienttree'srhythm.Whenthecliffswallows begintosoarandsingabovemeduringeachpivotalmomentofjoyI experienceintheseplaces,Iassociatethatwithspiritratherthanrandom repetition.ScienceandIcanagreethatforestexposurealtershowmybody functions,butmyexperiencedivesdeeperthanepigeneticproteinresponses orchemicaltriggers.ThroughouteachsuccessivemomentofconnectionI
feelwiththisentity,Ihavegiventheforestthespacetooccupyconsciousness, toactinresponsetomyactions,andtoexpressitselfindependentofthe previousinanimatedefinitionof‘land.’Withoutnecessarilyusinganaudible voice,IhaveofferedtheforestarelationshipwhereIstandasapartofitrather thananintruderorclassifierofit.WhenIhavespokentotheforest,these experienceshaveledmetoundoubtedlyreasonthatitisspeakingtome.
Onecanonlymakeitsofaronthesayingmygrandparepeatsso often–wemustgivetheforestequaltimetorespond,listeningforthatvoice eversoastutely.Whenthatbalanceisfound,asongisrevealed,anditbecomes apparentthateachlivingthinghasbeenwaiting,allalong,toconverse.But thelanguageofthatconnectionisuniquetoeachwhowanderstheforests, andittakesalifetimetobecomefluentinthisever-shiftingtongue.
MyfatherhaslivedinoraroundtheLosPadresfor51years,andheis stilllearningthenuancedlanguage.IfeelasthoughIhaveinheritedapieceof thiscodeinmyDNA,butImustalsolearnthelanguageofmysoulwithin theforestinordertounlocktheearth'smothertongue.
Thisforestfriendshipmovesatapacethatmanyoverlook,butwith therightpatience,theelaboratedcodebeginstoilluminateasetofarmor usedbytheforesttodistinguishthosewhogarnerrespectandprotectfrom thosewhodon’tlingerlongenoughtorealizetheforestisanentitytobe respected.AsIhavelearnedtolisten,Ihavelearnedtheadversitythatis requiredtoloveandbeloved.Witheachsuccessiveadventure,Ibetter understandhowtofindjoywithinthechallenge.Whencrawlingoverthorns becomesanactoflaughter,Irealizethesharpprotrusionsareaformof crackingajoke.Thebushesthatleavescratchesarealongingembrace–alove languageoftouch.Thepoisonoakthatguardswaterfallsisaremindernotto takeadvantageoftheirbeauty,arecurring(anditchy)gestureofreminiscence.
Perhapsmyfulfillmentcomespartiallyfromasetof immunoresponsestriggeredbyexposurethatdiminishunnecessary inflammation.Myguttellsmethatisnotenoughtowardoffthelonelinessor lackofpurposethatsometimesknocksatmydoor.However,theforestisan
unconditionallistener;itsarmsalwaysextendforembrace;eveninurban settingsstarkofplants,itslovepushesthroughsidewalksandhumsinthesoil, waitingtobeheard.Thissoulfulaffectionembedsinme,chemicallyor memorially.
Mybodyholdsacacheofcertainsensoryreactionsthatinvokelove–Icanidentifywhoiswalkingthroughmyhousebythewaytheirstepsgreet thecreakywoodfloor.Iknowthehumofmyfather’struckmotorandthe lowbuzzofmymother’selectriccarfromyearsoflisteningtothemreturn fromwork.Irecognizethesmellofmybrother'slaundrydetergentandcan sensethefaintscentofredwoodthatlingersonhisskinwhenhereturnsfrom hiscollegeintheNorthernCaliforniaforest.Thefirstyearwelivedapart,I realizedthatmybrotherspeaksthedialectoftheforestmostsimilartomine. Thatalonewilltieustogetherforever.WhenhereturnedforThanksgiving, wedroveupthemountaintositinthedrygrassasthesunfell.Hehelda fistfulofthecarcassesofspringbloomsinhishand.Iswattedmosquitosoff myfreckledarm.Thecoulterpineswerepainteddeepgold,theirbarkwafting undertonesofdustandvanilla.Thewindblewwithafrequencythatonly happensinthefall.Welookedateachother,knowingwebothfeltit.Weboth knowthesetangibleexpressionsoftheforestlikeweknowthoseofour family.Theydon’toccuranywhereelseintheworld,andafterachildhood spentroamingthehills,steepedinthesesignalsofconstantmotion,our bodiesyearntofeelthisdancingwindonourskin.Inthatmoment,theforest spoketouslikeithadbefore.Thatwindwasareminderofmotionandtime passing;itmarkedthefamilialreunionofuschildrenandthemountain underwhichourparentswereweddedandourplacentaswereburied.It whisperedofthebabiesnowfull-grownandsaplingsnowcastingshade.It toldusthattheforestisasmuchinourbloodasweareinits:thespiralingfall windstirredusbacktogetherandheldusinunity.
Ifeveryonehadthetimetobefriendtheworldthattheyinhabit,to trulybecomeapartofit,wewouldseeitforitsexpressionoflife,forits constantmovement,foritswisdom,andforitsawareness.Ifeveryonegave
theirlocalnatureaninvitationtospeaktothem,anopportunitytoreflect, notonlywouldlawschange,thebrokenworkingsofmanymindswould begintorewire.IguaranteethatlovingaforestthewayIlovetheLosPadres wouldleadtoprotectingit,andinturn,theforestwouldprotectus.Thereal changewilloccurwhenwerealizethatwe’reallpartsofthenaturalworld–it'sjustagameoflearningtocommunicateacrossthebarriersoflanguage, species,genus,kingdom,andeventhedefinitionofconsciousness.
Letusbecomechildrenoftheforest:speak,listen,andhearthe world'sjoyousresponse.
PhotosbyRickSawyer‘70
